


Fraternizing With The Enemy

by LyingHonesty, Verbophobic



Series: Twins/Trine [1]
Category: Transformers - All Media Types, Transformers Generation One
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Multi, Romance, talk of child rape, talk of prostitution
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-06-26
Updated: 2016-09-16
Packaged: 2018-04-06 05:32:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 7
Words: 22,726
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4209789
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LyingHonesty/pseuds/LyingHonesty, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Verbophobic/pseuds/Verbophobic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sideswipe has been keeping a secret from the Autobots - one that could change everything. Sunstreaker knows, sort of, but they haven't really talked about it. With the troops talking, and Sideswipe suddenly needing more and more fuel, he can't keep the secret for long. http://acidicshipwrites.tumblr.com/ I post updates here. I hope to update this story every thursday. Edited or not. So keep an eye on the notes at the start of the chapter they will tell you if it's been edited or not yet and when the last one is edited.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> How did the hellion twins start out? What formed them into who they are? How did they grow up? Why is Sunny a sociopath and his twin someone that can give one of the best false bravado's only after Jazz? Well, here is the Prologe with a bit of their sparkling background!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Edited a lot and redid a lot. Expect more from us again soon! 9-15-16

Prologue  
Sunstreaker leaned back on his servos, watching Sideswipe as his twin brother looked up at the sky. More specifically, Sideswipe was looking at the seekers soaring far above their helms. It was a night where the skies were full and bright with color, seekers dancing through the sky and performing flight patterns that the twins had no hope of understanding the deeper meanings of, though they knew deeper meanings existed. Sideswipe himself was shrieking with joy, running about with his arms stretched out, pretending to be a seeker himself. He even fluttered the tiny panels that would one day be door wings in a broken imitation of Seeker wing cant. He wanted so dearly to be up there, dancing with the seekers he had admired for as long as the twins had been able to watch the skies. His little pedes came to a stop and he stretched up onto his toes, reaching as high as he could. He watched with bright, wondering optics as two of the seekers he’d been watching came together and spiraled around each other, bellies nearly touching. They were beautiful, he thought, and he twisted around in circles as fast as he could to follow them, earning a fond look from his twin. 

He could get away with his games, as small as he still was. It was easy for passing mecha to mistake him for a sparkling, and Sunstreaker as an elder sibling or sitter. After all, Sunstreaker was an upgrade or two ahead of Sideswipe, and was larger than his red twin. He couldn’t play like that without drawing more attention than they needed, and with their lives any attention was too much. Watching Sideswipe was enough for him, however, and he could experience that joy and wonder through his spark, through the link he shared with his brother. It wasn’t the same, not really, but it was the hand that life had dealt him, and he was able to make the most of it. Sideswipe twisted to face him and waved, before stumbling and falling back on his aft, giggling at himself. A small twitch of Sunstreaker’s lips was the only indication that he gave of wanting to smile as well. His silly, perfect little twin, dancing across Cybertron’s warm plating, playing games as though the cruelty of the world could never touch him. For these small, brief moments, he could almost believe that was true.

It wasn’t true of course. The world’s cruelty touched him every day, his half of their shared spark growing and developing in spite of the tiny frame hosting it. Sunstreaker wished he could afford the upgrades for a frame that wouldn’t leave Sideswipe’s spark-half feeling squished into a too-small space, but it just wasn’t possible, and it wouldn’t be for a long time, no matter what work he scrounged up to do. He barely made enough credits to get them energon rations every day, and the money that was leftover often went into the next day’s rations. He had a little box of credits that he was trying to save, but there were still so few. Too few. And too often Sunstreaker had to empty that little box in order to feed his twin on the days that he couldn’t scrape up anything at all.

“Sunny! Sunny! Come fly with me!” Sideswipe trilled out, stopping in his games for a moment to face his brother. He could tell that Sunstreaker was getting too deep into his “serious thoughts”, and he wanted to distract him, wanted to see him have fun too. His optics seemed to sparkle and dance as he waited, and Sunstreaker was nearly overwhelmed by his brother’s beauty. He knew that when Sideswipe finally did get those upgrades, he’d be a force to be reckoned with, with optics like those. His lips twitched up again and he shook his helm, turning down the request and denying himself the moment of innocence, of fun. He wished that he could take a break to play and dance with his brother, but someone needed to keep guard, and Sideswipe was having far too much fun to risk ending things early. The smaller mech hadn’t been too set on getting his twin to play though - Sunny never did - and Sideswipe was long used to his denials. He asked every time though, hoping that one day Sunstreaker would say yes. One day, Sunstreaker wouldn’t be so exhausted, he wouldn’t have to be the strong one anymore. For now though, Sideswipe continued to play on his own and didn’t seem any less joyful for it. Sunstreaker was grateful for that at least, glad that nothing - not even his own limited happiness - could dampen Sideswipe’s joy.

He kept watching his twin, fully aware of both his brother and the environment around them. It wouldn’t do to lose track of the world at large, not when he had someone to protect. Still, his primary focus was on Sideswipe, as it always was. His optics slowly traced over his twin’s frame, seeking out point after point where it was all too clear that the frame was much too small. From his tiny black digits connected to too-small servos, up over gray forearms that flapped about as Sideswipe squawked and ‘flew’. His itty-bitty black pede got stuck on something, and then he was tripping and landing flat on his hood, tiny panels flapping and flailing for the briefest moment as he tried and failed to catch himself.

After assuring himself that his brother wasn’t harmed, Sunstreaker returned his focus to Sideswipe’s arms, optics dimming as his mouth turned down into a scowl. Scars - cheap and poorly done weld marks - that would never be healed marked ragged slashes across the soft metal surface, glinting in the light and marring an otherwise seemingly perfect form. Maybe when he got Sideswipe upgraded, he could get him some all new paneling for his protoform too... As it stood, however, Sideswipe’s frame would be forced to grow on its own and - Primus forbid - there was a very real risk of him becoming classed as a minibot if he was allowed to grow without the help of upgrades. A Cybertronian’s frame could only develop so far without help. Every bot relied on upgrades for growth, and before upgrades were widely available, many young bots died because of the strain on the spark. Sunstreaker refused to let Sideswipe become one of those young bots. He would take Sideswipe’s spark-half into his own frame, protect and shield him there until a more suitable frame could be found, long before he allowed Sideswipe to die.

He moved on in his inspection and sneered at Sideswipe’s gray thighs, still dented from larger mechs’ rough servos. They hadn’t yet had time this week to buff those out. Sunstreaker did his best to spare Sideswipe that fate as often as he could, however, and some weeks were much worse than this. It was bad enough that Sunstreaker had lowered himself to cheap buymech status just to ensure they got enough fuel; he had ripped apart plenty of larger mechs that he had caught with their paws all over his brother instead. No matter how many times Sunstreaker snarled at mecha that his twin wasn’t a part of the deal, none ever wanted to listen until they were missing at least half of their plating.

A frame was only a frame. It was a spark deep belief that both twins shared, and it was that belief that allowed Sunstreaker to play the role of willing pleasurebot to snag a few extra credits. They only ever touched his frame, and a frame was nothing. A frame could be cleaned, repaired, replaced. The spark was the thing to protect, and Sunstreaker did so viciously. All the same, he didn’t have to allow Sideswipe’s frame to be brutalized as well, if he could stop it (they were only kidding themselves really - the spark felt nearly everything the frame felt no matter how thoroughly they tried to dissociate in the moment, and telling themselves that it was “just a frame” was probably more damaging than accepting that they were being hurt, that they were… well, unwilling).

At least Sideswipe’s beautiful red calves only had scuff marks - those could easily be passed off as a sparkling just playing around, and sometimes Sunstreaker even fooled himself into believing that’s what it was. Now, too, his brilliant red hood was duller, coated in scuff marks from the tumble he just took. Sunstreaker wasn’t too concerned; Sideswipe was taking it well, rolling on the ground and laughing. It was clear that he wasn’t harmed at all, and Sunstreaker was relieved at that. They barely got enough energon as it was, there was little chance that even giving Sideswipe his own share would produce enough energon to fuel repair nanites. Sideswipe’s frame was unnaturally fragile, and Sunstreaker hated when anything happened to it to risk the brilliant spark underneath.

Pushing himself up, Sunstreaker had to turn away before he focused on too many out of place flaws and made himself ill. There were cuts on his twin’s abdomen that he’d noticed (from the fall? From something else? He couldn’t remember now), and he thought he saw a bluish silver color on him that definitely wasn’t a part of his paint scheme. Had they missed a spot while cleaning Sideswipe earlier? He chanced a second look, and his optics moved fast as he searched his twin’s face and helm for anything else. He felt a pang in his spark when his gaze ghosted over the patch-plating where Sideswipe’s audial horns used to be. It still hurt them both, and they were haunted by phantom pains late at night, but they were used to it by now. Like everything else, they couldn’t afford to have them replaced. Sunstreaker had made sure to rip more than just sensors off the mech that had done that. Sideswipe could still hear, the sensors themselves hadn’t been damaged to that point, but the horns were gone, and Sunstreaker couldn’t look directly at his twin without remembering the event all over again.

He looked down at his own servos - Clean and pristine. Under the layers upon layers of paint, he was sure that there were still scars. There wouldn’t be many since he’d upgraded recently, but even with the Pit master doing the buying (“C’mon scraplet, no mech wants to see a little wraith like you in the pit. A match like that would be too short, no fun for anyone. Yer gettin’ too old now to cater to the sparkling fetishists for me, so we’re gettin’ those upgrades. You’ll pay me back one way or another.”), Sunstreaker hadn’t been able to completely replace all of his parts, only most of them. His digits curled into fists, and his optics flickered back to his twin.

He tried to not be obvious about it, controlling his response as best as he could, but as he shifted his gaze he saw it; there was just the slightest shift in the darkness that revealed a mecha watching his twin from the shadows. A low growl rumbled from his chassis. No, not tonight. He wouldn’t allow it tonight. It was their night off for Primus’ sake, and he’d paid the Pit master that morning! 

“Misfire!” He called sharply, leaving no room for being ignored. Sideswipe froze in place, optics brightening a little, before darting to his twin’s side as quickly as he could.

“Yes, Dissy?” he whispered once he was close enough. He knew that when Sunstreaker used his false designation, they weren’t allowed to be themselves. False names meant that either an owner, opponent or client was near, and Sunstreaker had made sure their designations hadn’t been ruined in the gutters like their frames. False names kept them safe, kept anyone from being able to track them down when they weren’t in the Pits. As long as they had their true names, then they still had a chance to be free.

“It’s time to go home,” Sunstreaker said firmly, holding his servo out. Sideswipe’s expression twisted into something disappointed, but he took his twin’s servo obediently. Standing together like this, they were both acutely aware that the elder nearly doubled the younger in size. In most cases, they found it was actually to their advantage. No one looking believed they were twins, and it spared them a lot more pain that no one could use it against them, while at the same time Sunstreaker was always able to use their bond against anyone hurting his brother.

Tugging Sideswipe close to his side where he could keep him safe, Sunstreaker wrapped an arm around his shoulders and started walking. Not toward home of course, at least not directly. His senses were tuned to their surroundings, determined to track anyone following them. He didn’t want whoever this was to know where they lived.

The shadowed mech moved out into the open and began whistling as he walked away. He was being far too obvious about leaving, and Sunstreaker only became more and more alert, suspicious. He watched the mech intently, armor bristling, on full alert and waiting for the catch, for the mech to whip back around and come right for them. He was so absorbed in watching that mech, that he completely failed to notice the other mech behind him until he had grabbed Sideswipe by his scruff bar and lifted him high. Both twins jerked about trying to figure out what was happening, and Sideswipe gave a low wail of protest. He hated when people grabbed his scruff bar, hated the helplessness that washed through his frame when it happened.

Sunstreaker looked up, and up further still, and made a distressed noise as soon as he recognized the symbols emblazoned on the new mech’s doorwings. If there was one thing he feared more than the clients, it was the Enforcers. He watched with horror as the Enforcer looked Sideswipe over, and he knew there was nothing he could do.

“Jazz, run a scan on him for me. I’m detecting transfluids, I want you to confirm and trace.” The Enforcer held Sideswipe out in the direction of the mech that had been watching them from the shadows. 

No. Was the other one an Enforcer too? Had they been tricked, trapped? Had Sunstreaker fallen for such an obvious ploy? He couldn’t believe it. 

Fear froze him in place, and he felt a burning behind his optic lenses, an impending threat of tears. He was supposed to protect Sideswipe! How could this happen? How could he let them be captured like this? Sunstreaker knew what happened to younglings brought in by the Enforcers. They were entered into Cybertron’s Abandoned Youth Placement system, and younglings found together rarely, if ever, stayed together.

“He is - or at least was - covered in it. ‘Bout as dirty as a pleasure bot, an’ I bet tha pits are usin’ ‘im fer jus’ that, too.” The visor on the second mech had flared brightly as he scanned Sideswipe, and he looked over at Sunstreaker, who began to tremble. Go away, he thought. Please just go away. Give my brother back and leave us alone. “That’n’s clean, though. E’s got a lotta hidden dents, so I’d say they’re probably trainin’ ‘im up ta be a fighter ‘r somethin’. ‘E looks pretty scrappy, fer a mech his age.” 

The mech called Jazz kneeled down, and slowly reached out to the still frozen Sunstreaker, who flinched back violently as a servo was moved towards him. He was expecting to be struck. They’d been found, again. If these Enforcers knew they were from the Pits, they would skip the placement center altogether and send them right back there, but that meant paperwork, and paperwork upset the Enforcers, who upset the Pit master, who - his thoughts seemed to shatter as the soft touch of knuckles ran down his cheek instead of the sharp pain of a slap, drawing his focus instantly. Jazz smiled, impressed despite himself. These poor younglings had been through a lot, and yet there was still a strength in them, a strength that made them shine like beacons to his spark. 

“Hey now, it’s okay lil’ un. We ain’t gonna hurt ya, I promise. Our friend is a medic, he can remove tha’ self destruction coding in ya both and ya can be free, ya want that?”

Free. It was a concept he’d been toying with since they upgraded him enough to fight, to take down full grown mechs. It had always been just out of reach, however, as the coding kicked in whenever he honestly considered it. Like now. “Please-” Sunstreaker rasped, determined to fight it, to save Sideswipe if nothing else, and his frame rattled with fear and hope. The coding was like fire racing down his spinal strut, and he hated that it set him so close to crying. Without it, the only barrier keeping them from freedom was the cost - the Pit master owned their contract, and all of Kaon accepted the Pit contracts as essentially legal slavery. No one was willing to buy their freedom for them, and the Pit master would never let them get enough credits to buy it themselves.

Jazz shushed him gently, taking control, knowing that if he didn’t give Sunstreaker a chance to think or to fight, the coding would subside. “We can clean yer lil bro up too. Would ya like that? No more watchin’ ‘em use ‘im.”

Sunstreaker nodded, an almost desperate edge to him now, and he reached for Jazz, daring to hope that this mech was honest, daring to hope that he meant every word he said. He allowed Jazz to pull him into his arms, and he was lifted up, still shaking. “Let’s take care a tha’ for ya.” There was a click of armor plating shifting, and the edges of the world grew dark as Sunstreaker sank into a forced stasis, and the coding promptly shut itself down as well. Jazz looked over at Prowl, who’s expression was grim as he put Sideswipe under as well. 

“It’s startin’ ta get to ya too, huh luv?” 

It wasn’t often that the two of them were put on cases like this. Prowl dealt with pursuits and detective work more than anything, and Jazz was part of a behavioral unit. They could deal with most of the things that Cybertron’s criminal underworld had to offer, but when it came to sparkling and youngling cases, they struggled to stay objective.

“Yes,” Prowl said softly, bundling Sideswipe in his arms and beginning to walk. “It is.”  
.~:*:~.

Prowl held Jazz off for as long as he could, and at first it was easy enough. The younglings were being kept in the hospital while Ratchet worked on their frames and coding, and yes, Jazz came home distressed and miserable from their case, but a night alone with Prowl was enough for him to be his usual bouncy self in the morning before he slipped away again to check on the brothers before his early shift.

He knew that it couldn’t last of course, that one day the younglings would leave the hospital, alive and well and ready for a new home. When Jazz came home with the red mechling sleeping in his arms and the yellow one attached to his leg, however, Prowl froze. He’d known, seen it coming, and he’d prepared a dozen reasons they shouldn’t keep them, and counters to any argument his mate might make. Jazz looked so crestfallen, though, and Prowl made himself listen before raising protests. He owed Jazz that much respect, at least.

“No one in Kaon will claim ‘em, Prowler. Said tha’ if they were found there, they was likely sparked there - not many younglin’s end up on those streets from other citystates, ya know? No one wants ta be the one ta send a bitlet down ta Kaon. But everyone’s sayin’ they’re bad luck and no one wants ‘em.” He shook his helm, keening a soft note of distress. “‘Ow could they say that ‘bout these two lil miracles, Prowler? Bad luck? If they’re bad luck they wouldn’ be so strong!”

“Jazz.” Vocals set at a low baritone to try to sound soothing, Prowl just looked at his mate. He couldn’t bear that spark broken look on his bright sparked love. “You know you shouldn’t have brought them home.”

“Just fer tonight, Prowler. Please? They‘re gonna be put into tha system tomorrow, an’ ya know how scary that can be fer young ones. Just let ‘em stay here tonight, ta feel safe? I picked this one up when ‘e started ta panic at the clinic, and when ‘e fell inta charge Ratch said this is the easiest this lil un has had chargin’ since we brought ‘im in. I couldn’t just set ‘im down after I heard that-”

Prowl reached out to touch Jazz’s cheek, and the smaller enforcer gasped as he realized he had started to cry. Prowl wiped the tears away with his thumb and leaned in close, careful of the sleeping sparkling. He had known the moment they found them that Jazz would end up bringing them home, and he had known that the moment it happened, he wouldn’t really be able to say no.

“You don’t have to let them go, Jazz,” he murmured, offering a reassuring smile. “Not tonight or tomorrow, or any other day. Just say the word, and I’ll fill out the datapads tonight and start the adoption process.” They had never had sparklings of their own, because Prowl could not spark. They had tried for vorns, hoping that either one of them would finally kindle, before finally finding Ratchet, who told Prowl about his infertility. His frame and processor were likely to eliminate any spark he carried, and he used so much spark energy for his TacNet that he would never give off enough excess to spark Jazz. Ratchet had told them it was a miracle they’d even managed to bond without help. Jazz had been miserable over it, though he had tried to hide it from Prowl. He hadn’t wanted Prowl to think he blamed him for their inability to create together.

This, this was something Prowl could do for him. Something he wanted to do for him. After all, Prowl wanted sparklings too, and always had. He’d been devastated when he learned he couldn’t have any, even if it had presented itself in a different way from what another mech might had.

Jazz sobbed and moved to lean against Prowl, thanking him through their bond. This was their chance, the only chance either would ever get to have sparklings, and the twins - Jazz hadn’t told Prowl about that part yet, but he would - were a little… different. Ratchet had warned him that they would be a handful for any caretakers, especially first time ones. 

The red one had very little control of himself, his spark was strained, his frame was stunted, and he cried a lot, more than most sparklings Ratchet dealt with. The yellow one by contrast was far too silent, had a tendency to lash out rather than speak up about anything bothering him, and he was bordering on a sociopathic mental state, too. They would be a handful, Jazz knew. They would need constant care and frequent checks with Ratchet, at least for a few hundred vorns.

But Jazz knew they could all handle it together. He couldn’t say how he knew. He just did.


	2. Anniversary

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sideswipe and Sunstreaker don't always get along, they truly love each other but all relationships have some kind of secretes and pains. What is theirs?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Major Edits as of 9-16-16

Chapter 2: Anniversary

“Sideswipe! Slag it, where do you think you’re going?!” Sunstreaker demanded. His twin snarled back, something that sounded a lot like a curse. “Get your aft back here before I beat some slagging sense into you! Hey - glitch! Are you slagging listening to me?!”

Sideswipe gave his twin a very rude human gesture before transforming. His wheels spun on the Ark’s floor paneling before he managed to get enough traction to speed away, leaving his fuming, lemon colored twin behind. “Sideswipe! If you leave our fragging territory you will not be welcomed back into our room! You hear me slagger? Don’t you dare come crawling back to my berth because I will toss your glitching aft into the pit to be smelted down into scrap metals!” His voice had cracked there a little at the end, not that anyone would dare to mention it. He snarled, twisting and slamming his servo through the wall of the Ark, not caring that his creators would probably scold him for it later. He was angry, damn it, and after all, surely they’d prefer his fist through the bulkhead than through someone else’s face, right?

In the end, that was how the base came to full alertness that orn: To the twins screaming at one another loud enough to rouse everyone from recharge, even those that had a late shift and had only been recharging for a joor at most.

“Sunshine~?” Jazz seemed to purr as he moved toward the larger but younger mech. He leaned against his sparkling, moving to wrap his arms around him, only to get pushed away - although Sunstreaker was deceptively careful to make sure that Jazz wouldn’t fall or get hurt - and Prowl moved in instead, wings up slightly and optics narrowed. Sunstreaker knew better than to treat Jazz so rudely, no matter how gentle he was. Jazz was an affectionate bot, and pushing him away from comfort or contact was simply Not Done.

He was about to say as much, when Sunstreaker turned to storm away, surprising everyone present by blowing off the second in command. He did, however, ping Prowl with information about where he would be. “I will speak with him, Jazz.” Prowl promised lowly. No one knew about their relationships but Optimus. It would not have been considered fair among the troops, due to Prowl frequently using his position to secure the four of them posts on the same base - for the most part, anyway.

Jazz nodded and sighed, glad that Sunny opened up to Prowl at the very least. He wished that his sparkling would talk to him, but as he grew older, Sunstreaker had grown more and more difficult to connect to. Jazz didn’t know how Prowl did it, but he was grateful that he could. There was something ironic in the fact that Jazz, the social butterfly, couldn’t seem to connect to his child, while Prowl, the social shut in, could. Jazz wasn’t bitter, just… confused. He didn’t understand what caused Sunstreaker to shut him out so often, and if he was completely honest, it hurt. He was glad that Sideswipe at least was always happy to see him - if both twins rejected him so often, Jazz didn’t think he could stand it.

Prowl touched Jazz’s back gently, meshing their fields together to reassure his mate as best as he could in public. He would take care of things as best he could, and if he couldn’t figure it out with Sunstreaker, they both knew that Jazz would find a way to weasel it out of Sideswipe. One way or another, they’d find out what was wrong with their sparklings.

With his mate at least somewhat reassured by that thought, Prowl set off to follow Sunstreaker, tracking him to the twins’ berthroom. He only knocked once - a universal sign that it was him in their little mismatched family, and Sunstreaker called out a wordless sound of permission. The door slid open under Prowl’s touch and he stepped inside, humming his displeasure at his sparkling lying on the berth with the lights out. Once the door was closed once again, Prowl fanned his wings wide to help himself navigate in the dark. “So, would you like to talk about it?” he asked.

“Not really,” Sunstreaker muttered, shifting over to let Prowl sit on the edge of the berth. 

“Hm.” Prowl settled in, fluttering his wings for a moment before letting them relax. “Your carrier is worried about you, and about Sideswipe too. You hurt his feelings by pushing him away like that.”

Sunstreaker snorted. “Nothing hurts Jazz’s feelings.” The slightest edge of humor was all that kept Prowl from chiding him. “But I get what you mean, I think. I’ll apologize later.”

“You’ll apologize as soon as we finish talking.”

Sunstreaker’s plating shifted and flared wide, engine growling softly. That surprised Prowl - the twins must’ve had a particularly rough fight this time, if even now with him Sunstreaker was still so much on edge. “You know, we can help you. That’s what creators are for.”

Sunstreaker glanced at Prowl, a thousand things running through his mind. Everything from “You aren’t our creators” to “You wouldn’t understand”. He didn’t say either of those things however. They all knew that the twins were adopted, and Sunstreaker was a petty mech but he liked to think that he wasn’t needlessly cruel. Rubbing it in Prowl and Jazz’s faces that they weren’t the twins’ coders was just plain unnecessary. And no one could ever really understand the twins - that was a long accepted fact. Twin relationships just plain worked differently. 

All these vorns, it had never truly made a difference that Prowl and Jazz weren’t their coders and weren’t twins themselves. They had still soothed every hurt, been there for every nightmare, held them in fits of sobbing… Sunstreaker wouldn’t trade any of that for the world, no matter how angry or frustrated he was at any given moment. But in this moment, with this problem… 

“I don’t think you can help me this time, Si.”

Prowl flicked his wings loosely. “Sometimes just talking about it can help,” he offered.

Here in this room, or in Prowl and Jazz’s quarters, away from the prying eyes of Red Alert or the other Autobots, they were just a family. There was no war, no factions. Sunstreaker could tell his Sire everything. He could spill his and his twins’ secrets, crawl into his arms like he did as a child and ask him for help, for advice, for direction. 

He could do all those things. 

“Please don’t ask me to,” he whispered. “I love you Si, I do, and I love Cree too, but this is… this is a twins only thing. If I tell you I could hurt Sides, I could break his trust in me.”

Prowl sighed, but he knew better than to push more. Sunstreaker was very touchy about his own thoughts and his own body (and because he was Sideswipe and Sideswipe was him, that included Sideswipe’s thoughts and body too), and if he didn’t want to share then he wouldn’t. Prowl wouldn’t cause him to think that he had no respect for him by insisting. “I understand little one. Is there anything at all that we can do for you or your brother? Anything to help the two of you work this out?”

Sunstreaker shook his helm, but reached for Prowl before he could get up to leave. “Stay? Just for a joor or two? I know you’re busy but-”

“I’ll stay.” Prowl smiled. “And later you can apologize to your carrier.” Sunstreaker made a face, but nodded his agreement, humming softly as Prowl laid beside him to rest.

Prowl and Jazz would have to accept that Sunstreaker refused to speak of what was going on with his relationship with Sideswipe. The two were bondmates, being twins, so it was expected by most that they would be in a relationship too, which they were. Some things in a relationship stayed that way, in the relationship, even when creators end up involved in the fallout. Jazz and Prowl knew that it wasn’t a mark against them, or their creations being deliberately cruel or hiding things. Though their bond wasn’t nearly as strong as the twins’ bond, they did have some understanding of how things worked, that it was normal for bonded pairs to exchange thoughts, feelings, ideas, without anyone else being aware. It was just how things were, and the two young warriors had always had “twin secrets” as the family called them. Jazz was just worried that the latest Twin Secret was going to tear them apart.

Sideswipe, now a long way from the Autobot base, was in a really foul mood. How dare Sunstreaker try to control him like that? He knew how important this was to Sideswipe, how strongly he felt, and still he-! Sideswipe had to transform and take a few moments to calm himself, lest he let his emotions get the best of him. He wasn’t the out of control one, Primus slag it!

‘Vent, Sides. Deep long intakes and calm.’ He reminded himself. It took him a moment, but he managed to follow his own advice and start to calm his mind.

Once he was finally calmed down enough to think straight, he didn’t hesitate to send a comm to someone through a heavily encrypted line. The encryption used was one that he had partially stolen from Red Alert, modified himself - heavily so that very little of Red’s code remained - and then gave it to his lover to tweak and finalize. If he ever found out about it, it would take Soundwave orns to break into the coding, and by then all who had the frequency would have been alerted to his meddling, and would have erased everything of importance, before recreating a new frequency that was not in the least bit similar to the original. 

::Coming, Lover~:: 

Sideswipe laughed at the voice that he heard. At least he had this, for now. For today at least, he had these stolen moments. He could figure everything else out later. He could deal with his twin, later. For now, it was time to focus on and gain strength from his unlikely mate. Not that they had bonded yet or anything, but they did talk about it on occasion. One orn. One orn when it was safe, they had promised to bond. 

Vop!

Well, okay, his unlikely mates. ::You told Skywarp~?:: Sideswipe purred to Starscream as he turned. He let out a squealing sound as big, sky blue arms wrapped around him and lifted him into an adoring kiss. 

::I told them both~ I will be late so I thought it best to let them go ahead of me so you wouldn’t be alone for so long.::

“Hello to you too Thundercracker,” Sideswipe teased when he was finally allowed to vent to cool himself down again. This was a pleasant distraction from worrying about why exactly Starscream was going to be late. Skywarp grabbed his chin and turned his head just enough to kiss him and lick at his lips insistently. “You too War-mph!” Skywarp cared little for words, as he often did. ‘Less talky, more kissy~’ was often his thought process. There was no complaint from Sideswipe, just a small little moan as he allowed himself to melt into the kiss.

“Skywarp, let him go. No interfacing tonight. Tonight is special and not about pleasure.” Thundercracker shifted and pulled Sideswipe away from Skywarp before things could get too heated. Sideswipe whined softly, and little puffs of steam were released when he opened his vents wide to cool off. He leaned towards Skywarp, optics hazed over with want and lust. “Sideswipe, do you know what this orn is?” Thundercracker asked, his turbines giving a whiny rumble - a laugh. He tugged the little grounder back, trying to draw his attention and bring his focus to the present, rather than on what he wanted.

“Tuesday?” Sideswipe asked as he looked up. He wiggled his arms free to wrap around Thundercracker’s neck. His distant look shifted slowly into fondness, and he was now smiling, frame cooling slightly. He still wanted more kisses, still wanted more touches, but he was more focused now, recognizing that his mates wanted something else for the moment.

“No silly!” Skywarp was bouncing from pede to pede excitedly. Tiny puffs of black smoke coming out of each thruster every time he rocked. He wasn’t turning the flames on to fly, but there was enough that something was igniting and being smothered each time the thruster went back down to the ground, and it gave his steps a little extra bounce. Thundercracker swatted at him with one wing half-sparkedly. His younger mate was always so excited.

“You know, it was a year ago - in earth time that is - that you tore off my wing and crashed us into Skywarp so hard that he warped us away,” Thundercracker offered up. He watched as Sideswipe tilted his helm. Watched as those dots connected and his optics brightened up. 

“We’re doing Terran years?! I - I thought we would stick to the usual Vorns!” The grounder looked so panicked and upset that Skywarp had to laugh.

“Sides, Sides, calm down. It’s not going to be every Terran year. Just - we know that we can offline anytime during the war, or that you or your twin could shut down. We wanted to have a shot at celebrating at least one anniversary together.” Skywarp nuzzled his small mate and chirred soothingly. Sideswipe was so itty bitty and he loved it. 

When he and TeeCee had first met Starscream, they had thought him to be a tiny thing. Standing at only thirty-three feet, Starscream was one of the smallest seekers the duo had ever seen. Skywarp was almost thirty-eight and Thundercracker was perfectly rounded off at forty. Later, they met the twins, and though they had always known that grounders were smaller than Seekers, the three of them were fascinated by their size, especially whenever they held their little mate. Sideswipe was a shrimp compared to all three of them, struggling to stand at twenty-five feet, and his twin barely beat him at twenty-eight. 

“Come on, we’ve got a lunch prepared, and some other plans while we wait for Star.” Thundercracker shifted his hold on Sideswipe to cradle him close and Sideswipe tensed, tightening his hold and preparing. A small smirk graced Thundercracker’s lips as he activated his sigma ability.

Boom! The ground shook and craters were created as he flew high and fast into the sky to suddenly go from zero to six hundred in a minute. Although, Thundercracker enjoyed correcting Sideswipe by telling him he only hit two hundred in that time, because he didn’t want to risk hurting Sideswipe who was just not built for that kind of speed, no matter how much he loved racing.

Vop! Skywarp was right there with them and twirling and dancing as he transformed to do tricks in his alternate mode. Hungrily, Sideswipe looked him over, watching the way he twirled and danced in the sky. There was just something about the trine in their alternate modes that made his engine rev.

Their flight was fairly short as they landed in a secluded spot with a large cave close by. Sideswipe was set down and he just gawped, shock and wonder keeping him silent for a long moment. His optics flickered as he reset them to look again. “I- it’s where we were the very first time we interfaced.” He shuddered as he thought about that and he looked at the two. “Me and Starscream met up here to talk about- about how it just seemed stupid to continue fighting. After a bit it rained and we retreated here. I- It-”

“It turned into a tornado and neither of us could leave. Scared, you cuddled up close to me and there was a lot of laughter and talking for a while. Didn’t take us too long for the kissing or touching to start, though, and then before we knew it I was spiking you~” Starscream strutted over. Aft moving just right to make Sideswipe’s fans kick on and cause him to stutter over his reply. “You were so good at ‘facin’, I took you three times that orn. Scrapped your armor fairly badly too.” He grinned, a certain sort of pride in that memory. “You never told me how you explained that away.”

“I- I told them I got caught outside when it started, before I could make it back to the base. They never suspected I was lying - they wouldn’t have thought I had any reason to. And something like a cross-faction tryst was the exact opposite of what any of them would ever think, with the way that Sunny and I are on the battlefield.” Starscream just smirked at him then continued on his way into the cave.


	3. Love Hurts, The Idiot's Decision

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mistakes are going to hurt everyone at this point~

Chapter Three: 

Sideswipe didn’t talk to Sunstreaker for several orns after his anniversary with the trine, and Sunstreaker didn’t so much as look at Sideswipe either. The rest of the Autobots stayed out of it as best they could. Neither twin would say anything bad about the other to their comrades, no matter how angry they are at each other, so everyone was at least grateful for that. However, fights between split spark twins were always high tension, and this fight left half the crew praying that it would end soon. To their luck, sooner rather than later they broke and were found staying close to each other. It was no surprise to either creator or twin who broke the silence. Well maybe not the silence, they still didn’t talk to one another right away, but at least who took the first step towards mending the hurt.

After a few days, when he (presumably) just couldn’t take it anymore, Sunstreaker came up to Sideswipe as the younger twin was sitting in a booth with his creator Jazz. The yellow mech sat down and slid in close to his twin. He didn’t speak, didn’t look at Sideswipe, gave no outward indication that he even knew who he was sitting next to. Jazz had paused a moment to watch, gauging the situation, but Sunstreaker only took out a polishing cloth and began to buff himself. No one would notice that the twins’ biceps were touching, that this was Sunstreaker taking that first step to mending the aftermath. No fighting broke out though, so Jazz let Sunstreaker have his silence, and picked up his conversation with Sideswipe seamlessly.

From that point on, it was all silent fixing between the two of them. The bond did wonders for fixing the hurt and betrayal after a fight, and they didn’t need to speak a single word between them. It was better that way, really. Words could only do so much, and oftentimes they simply weren’t enough. Within the bond, solving problems and mending wounds was much, much easier. However, this silent mending meant that it took everyone but Jazz and Prowl - the only ones familiar with this system of forgiveness - a good while to realize the duo were no longer fighting. In fact, they only found out at all because Smokescreen forgot that knocking was generally expected before entering someone else’s room. Looking for Sideswipe, he walked into the twins’ shared room without warning one orn, only to come face to face with Sunstreaker possessively holding Sideswipe around his middle and taking him from behind. The Praxian probably would have stayed to watch, his interface protocols had certainly demanded it, if Sunstreaker hadn’t taken notice and thrown a datapad at him with aim that would have made Ratchet proud.

Smokescreen had spread the word fairly quickly, and within the orn everyone on base knew that the twins had stopped fighting and made up. Smokescreen tallied up the results from the betting pool, and Grimlock won a large sum from the bet he placed on how it would end. While ‘mating’ was not exactly what the interface would typically be defined as, it was close enough, and no one else had bet on that result - and much energon of different assortments was given to the dinobot, who shared with his brothers. 

With everything settled down, and something resembling normalcy finally returning to the base, the rec room grew busy with life. No one was afraid any longer that one of the twins would enter and ruin the mood with tension or anger, and a few mechs were already talking about convincing Jazz and Blaster to throw one of their big parties - not for the twins of course, everyone was careful to say. The twins hated the spotlight. But after so long living under heavy tension, everyone wanted to unwind. 

Unwinding, of course, was probably exactly what started the next problem for the twins. 

“Man, I miss Sides.” Smokescreen lamented after collecting the betting pool and paying Grimlock his cut, his own commision safely in his subspace, save for the highgrade he had already started drinking. It was a while later, before he continued on out of the blue. “Slagger used to take me like that at times. Never let me play with his valve though. Told me he didn’t like it that way, yet he lets his twin do it.” There was a mix of bitterness and wistfulness in his voice. He would never understand twin dynamics, but he was eternally jealous that Sunstreaker got to enjoy Sideswipe’s valve whenever he wanted.

The bots around him laughed and someone whined. “He hasn’t even looked at me with interest in months!” The dam broke with that, and others began to join in, pushing tables together and talking about their old exploits with Sideswipe. It was something of a drunken bonding session, one that no one cared to consider the consequences of.

“Isn’t it odd, that the slagger who had no end in sight to his facin’ suddenly stopped-” there was an accompanying click of digits, like a human snap. “- like that.” This one came from another voice, but the crowd had grown so big now that it was hard to pinpoint who was saying what anymore. “Wonder if he’s with someone, like in a steady relationship now, you know?” 

Someone else scoffed, and there was a sound of indignation that followed as energon was spilled on some poor mech’s lap. “Yeah right. We’d all know wouldn’t we? The only Autobots are here on the Ark, and you all know how impossible it is to keep a relationship secret in this place.” There was a chorus of agreement from the other mechs.

That’s how the discussion of Sideswipe’s personal life came up, and how the entirety of the rec. room began to share about their exploits with the red twin. A room wide affair, mechs were calling over one another’s helms, joking and laughing. Sideswipe was a mech that only ever spiked, and as Smokescreen had observed earlier, no one in the ranks had ever even seen his valve, except for Sunstreaker. They tossed comparisons back and forth, everyone trying to top everyone else for ‘best Sideswipe frag ever’, and they competed and argued over who he seemed to like the best. As the stories began to taper off, mechs growing tired or running out of fresh material, mutters began to circle the room about how long ago each encounter was. Eventually, they came to the conclusion that no one, not a single one of them outside of the twins, had interfaced with Sideswipe for over a year.

Sideswipe leaned against the door frame, face schooled into an expression of amusement and boredom. Internally, however, his processor was racing, thoughts nearing a full blown panic. He needed to start ‘facing again or the other Autobots were going to figure out that something wasn’t quite right. His mind told him that he needed to fix things, and quickly, or risk the trine being found out. Megatron would do more to those three if he caught them than the vorn or so Sideswipe would spend in a cell for fraternization. And even that was pushing things, because no doubt his adopted creators would take pity on him and let him out long before a vorn passed.

He had to act, and now. There was no more time for thinking.

Leaving quickly, he nearly ran over Bluestreak in the hall, not far from the rec room. He must’ve been heading there for his evening fuel. Sideswipe pasted on the biggest smile he could muster, and caught Bluestreak by the arm. “Blue! Just the mech I was looking for.” Bluestreak looked at him, surprised. Sideswipe was looking for him? He opened his mouth to ask what for, but Sideswipe could see that ending in a long, rambling mess, so he quickly continued. Luckily, Bluestreak never minded when others interrupted him. He knew how he could be. “I was thinking, maybe you’d like to have a little roll in the berth~?” He gave Blue his old playboy smirk, knowing how it used to affect his comrades. Before, everyone knew that it was a game, that Sideswipe loved them all, but only in the friendliest sense. Interface, to the twins, had always been separate from romance, and no one ever held any expectations for more. But that didn’t mean that a sly quirk of the mouth, a clever cant of the helm, and just the right look in his optics didn’t send them all melting to eat from his servo. It was a dangerous power to have over his allies, and he hoped Bluestreak would forgive him later, as he leaned down to hover close to the Praxian’s lips, tempting him closer.

He knew what he was doing was horrible. He knew that Bluestreak had a long standing crush on Sunstreaker, knew that Bluestreak would do anything to have Sunny watching him, paying attention to him. He would even ‘face with Sideswipe, because everyone knew that Sunstreaker at least watched most times that Sideswipe ‘faced, if he didn’t invite himself to participate as well. Bluestreak knew that the twins ‘faced each other, but he didn’t understand that a relationship with one would be a relationship with both, and so he treated Sideswipe only as a friend. His ignorance was the primary reason that Sunstreaker had never given Blue a second thought, even if he might have been otherwise interested in him. Sunstreaker would never consider a serious relationship that didn’t include Sideswipe.

“Yes,” Bluestreak gasped, a near desperation to his voice. It drew Sideswipe’s focus back to him, and he picked the slightly smaller Praxian up to wrap his legs around the red mech’s waist. Bluestreak went with it easily, wrapping his arms around Sideswipe’s neck as well and immediately dropping kisses along his neck cabling. Sideswipe carried him back to the twins’ quarters on autopilot, servos wandering to touch and please without a thought, falling back on coding that was nearly spark deep as he detached his processor from his actions. It helped that they had been in this position many times before, and he knew Bluestreak so well.

The twins had toyed with the idea of possibly starting a relationship with the Praxian, not all that long ago in fact. Sideswipe enjoyed his company, Sunstreaker appreciated his beauty and talents, and he had always been good to both of them. He treated them well, had never judged either of them for the flaws that they had, and there was a certain level of trust between them that, once, the twins had believed could blossom into something more. Unfortunately, it had been shot down quickly. There had never been an official conversation about it. The twins never got around to asking, and Bluestreak had never made a move one way or the other. They hadn’t needed to. The twins knew that Blue’s affections leaned more toward Sunny, and that he would readily pass Sideswipe up for the yellow twin, only pursuing a relationship with him because it meant he would have Sunstreaker. They didn’t want a relationship like that. They wanted to be equals in the eyes of their partners, and they wanted their partners to know that a relationship with them meant that everyone held an equal place. They didn’t want a relationship where Sideswipe’s well being was given priority over Sunstreaker’s or vice versa. 

That was one thing that drew Sideswipe to the trine. They had that quality already, between the three of them. They loved each other equally and no one was favored over anyone else. Even when they shared different things with one or the other mate, there were no strong preferences being given, no reason for selfishness or jealousy in their trine. They knew how to carry a strong trine relationship, and when Sideswipe was welcomed into their arms they had given him the same rights and equality. He was a new addition, but they never treated him like an outsider because of it. Sideswipe wanted to share that with his twin, really he did. Even as the trine asked after him though, checking up on Sunstreaker despite him not officially joining their relationship yet, Sideswipe didn’t think that his twin was ready just yet.

Sometimes Sideswipe felt guilty about that as well. Sometimes when he was at his lowest points, he would think to himself that Sunstreaker had turned his back on a devoted, loving partner just because Blue wasn’t interested in Sideswipe romantically. Sunstreaker had sacrificed a potentially great relationship for Sideswipe’s happiness, and Sideswipe… He was serious about his relationship with the trine, and he knew they could be good for both him and Sunstreaker. He knew that unlike Blue, the trine would welcome both twins with open arms, and never favor one over the other. Yet he never invited Sunstreaker along to meet them, to spend time with them, even though Sunstreaker surely knew by now that they were who Sideswipe was always disappearing to go see. He often told himself that he was just waiting for the right time, but as time went on, he wondered if it would ever happen. He wondered why, after so long, he still hadn’t tried to get Sunstreaker to come with him when he slipped away to meet the trine.

Was he doing the right thing, by not bringing Sunstreaker in yet? Was he doing what was best for his twin, like Sunstreaker had when he rejected Bluestreak? Sideswipe looked down at the sniper, watched him writhe beneath him with a detached sort of interest, consideration. What might things have been like, if Bluestreak and Sideswipe could love each other? Not use each other - to get affection, to avoid conflict - but simply want to enjoy each other’s company, fall in love?

Bluestreak squealed out as he overloaded, bringing Sideswipe’s focus in sharply. Still though, as he manually triggered a rush of transfluid out of his spike and into into the Praxian with his own false cry, he wondered what a relationship might have been like. Would the twins find that little squeal endearing, or would they grow tired of it over time? Sideswipe gave a soft sigh and moved to lay on his side, acting spent. He felt… guilty, and he was irritated with himself for the feeling. He’d only done what he needed to, right? Bluestreak didn’t seem to notice that Sideswipe’s act was really bad, or that he seemed to be having a moral crisis. He was too busy watching a shadow not far from the berth. It moved sharply forward and the dim lighting revealed a yellow frame wearing a terrifying scowl. One that many had long come to recognize as an expression that promised pain. “Sunstreaker,” Bluestreak trilled, looking excited. He didn’t know Sunstreaker well enough to read the nuances of his expressions, not yet. He was just excited to see the mech that he adored. He’d known that Sunstreaker would come, would watch them even though he didn’t join, and it made him stupidly happy.

Sunstreaker, however, only seemed to grow more agitated by the sniper’s enthusiasm.

“Get out, Bluestreak. Now.” Sunstreaker’s engine growled, a harsh snarl really, and his plates flared threateningly. Bluestreak shrank back instinctively, surprised by Sunstreaker’s hostility. It wasn’t uncharacteristic, he knew, but Sunstreaker had always been nice to him, if a little distant. He looked over at Sideswipe, and Sideswipe looked away. He was ashamed of his actions, yes, but he wasn’t willing to do anything about them, not to defend Blue or himself from his twin. Maybe he had even been hoping for some sort of punishment from Sunstreaker for this. Bluestreak stuttered, confused, as he looked between the two. This was a new dynamic that he wasn’t sure how to handle. He had been here before, in the twins’ berth. He and Sideswipe had long been interfacing partners, before Sideswipe stopped interfacing altogether for a terran year, and while Sunstreaker had never participated in interface with Bluestreak, he had watched and sometimes guided from the sidelines. Sure, he was a little sharp-glossa’d, and he’d never been exactly warm and welcoming, but Blue didn’t think he was warm and welcoming to anyone.

“Out!” Sunstreaker bellowed, and Blue snapped his panel shut before bolting away with a soft wail, door slamming behind him. Sunstreaker didn’t even flinch, but he did make a note to sit with Blue for energon in the evening. “What are you thinking Sideswipe?!”

“I - Sunny - I’m sorry, I wasn’t -”

“Of course you weren’t!” he snarled, and his servo flew before he fully processed the command and he back-handed Sideswipe. It didn’t hurt either of them - both had much too heavy armor to even feel such a blow really - but after the clang of impact there was silence for several long kliks that felt like orns, before Sunstreaker growled so low it was nearly impossible to make his words out. “You had better pray to Primus that you took my advice and broke it off with that trine, Sideswipe. Bluestreak will babble on about this for vorns, he always fragging does. I hope whatever you were trying to accomplish was worth it, because when they hear about it I will not protect you.”

Sunstreaker left his twin sitting on the berth in shock. Despite his warning, he was going out to do some damage control, as much as he could. If asked, Sunstreaker would lie and say that he just wanted to make sure Bluestreak still understood that a relationship simply couldn’t happen between them. In reality, however, he needed to make sure that he protected Sideswipe from as much of the backlash of this as he could. 

Sideswipe stared at the door, stunned, processor reeling. Just thinking about what he had just done and what he had possibly ruined, on so many fronts, had him near panic. He had only wanted to protect his relationship with the trine, and yet he hadn’t even thought about what they would think of his choice before he acted. He hadn’t even considered asking them for help, for advice, first. And now, Sunstreaker had... 

Sideswipe had to fight to keep tears from his optics. He dared to send out an encrypted communications link, focusing enough to keep the code from becoming too clumsy, too easy for Blaster or Soundwave, or even Red Alert, to hack. Normally he wouldn’t do this in the middle of an active shift, but he was feeling desperate and scared. ::Starscream, I - I need to talk to you. I ‘faced someone and need to tell you in person before anything else gets out. I want you to have the full story, not… not something Soundwave’s cassettes overheard while spying.::

He waited for a reply... waited for anything... but when there was no reply at all he raced from the base, knocking Red Alert away when he tried to stop him. He didn’t have time for the CSO’s panicking, for his stupid paranoia and demands for tighter security. He yelled back at him to take it up with Prime, not even caring to know what he was actually saying, and transformed, hitting the road with spinning tires. Even in his haste, however, he was careful about getting to their meeting place untracked, and he found Starscream already there and pacing. He looked hurt, lost, confused, and Sideswipe’s spark gave a little twist of distress. This was something Starscream didn’t understand, and Starscream hated not understanding something. He turned to face Sideswipe as the grounder transformed back into root mode, and Sideswipe hurried to explain before Starscream could grow even more agitated. “They were talking about me, the Autobots I mean. They were… they were saying how they thought I was in a relationship, because I used to interface a lot and since starting things with the trine I haven’t been. They were getting suspicious, and they were trying to guess who I had to be with. I… I panicked, and I’m ashamed of myself, but I wasn’t thinking about anything but protecting you, Star, I swear. I can’t let them find you - I can’t. If they do - Megatron would offline all of you for what we are doing, you know he would! If anything happened to you, I couldn’t live knowing that I put you at risk like that!” His speech was rushed and he reached for the seeker whose wings were turned downward, Sideswipe was desperate, praying that Starscream, who he loved so much would understand, would forgive him. Starscream stepped back, optics still bright with pain as he avoided Sideswipe’s reach. 

“How could you, Sideswipe? We’ve been nothing but loyal to you!” Sideswipe flinched back as Starscream’s voice climbed in volume. “We loved you wholly and you - you go off and frag someone just because of a rumor?! You couldn’t think of any other option?” His null ray raised and he aimed it straight for Sideswipe’s spark. Sideswipe had seen what that weapon could do to a mech, and fear touched him, but he didn’t back down. If Starscream took him out for what he did, he would accept it - his only regret would be that Sunstreaker might get dragged down with him. But Sunstreaker was strong, and Sideswipe had to believe he could carry on alone.

“I deserve to be shot,” he murmured. “I deserve to be left behind by you, by all of you. I love you all so much but I just hurt you so terribly - and I’m sorry could never be enough. But I am sorry. I don’t - I wanted you to hear it from me first, before the story could get twisted. I don’t want to ‘face them, but if I don’t they’ll try to find out why I’m not facing, why I’m sneaking off. Autobots are too curious for their own good, Star, and once they find out who I’m with...Fraternizing with the enemy will lead to interrogations and brig time for me, and that’s not a big deal. But you and TC and Warp would all become targets. If Megatron learns of this, of us, what will he do to you? Even if Jazz was at his very worst with me, it would be nothing compared to the torture you all will go through. Prime and Prowl won’t let me be hurt that badly, but you… you don’t have that kind of protection from Megatron. I won’t let that happen, Star, I can’t. I’ll break us up before accepting that as an option.”

Starscream backed away even further, growling as he lowered his null ray. “You are not breaking us up over this, Sides! Find a way to fix this, make them stop looking into you and don’t fragging face anyone else!” He transformed and shot off into the sky, still hurt and sore, but knowing that Sideswipe was right. He had heard his own rumors on his side about how placid he has become over the past year. Decepticons were talking about how he seems to have finally settled into being second, and he knew - he knew - that Megatron was growing suspicious. He never thought that finally putting aside his ambitions to stay out of the spotlight would put him even more into it instead.

::You stupid, slagging grounder! How dare you be right!:: He sent then cut off the coms. He had fix this, somehow. He just wasn’t sure how yet.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Anyway you can follow this blog for random updates and some teasers and spoilers for future chapters~ http://acidicshipwrites.tumblr.com/


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter Four: Interfacing Rumors

Sideswipe sat on his berth fiddling with a gunmetal gray figure that he had made many vorns ago. It was one of his favorites from when he’d first learned how to make the limbs maneuverable and developed his wares from simple figurines to a more posable design, something that sparklings or collectors would love. He maneuvered the wings of the Seeker high up, not in a threatening or irritated way but a more proud resting place, based on his understanding of Seeker body language. His digits maneuvered the tiny arms to touch its hips and give an overall air of being in charge to the inanimate Seeker. “Stupid flyer,” he grumbled as his thumb caressed the figure’s face lovingly. 

It had only been two days and already he missed the seekers. He returned the figure to its spot on the berthside desk and stared at it for a moment longer, before he noticed a shifting of gold in the corner of his vision. He looked over, and had to reset his optics when he saw his twin looking at him. Sunstreaker was wearing a strange expression, and he frowned at Sideswipe when he saw him paying attention. “Sunny?” Sideswipe questioned, a little concerned and a lot confused by the intensity of his brother’s gaze. He couldn’t identify the expression, but he had a feeling that it wasn’t good, whatever it meant.

“Go and find Bluestreak. Apologize to him for what happened the other orn and let him spike you.” Sunstreaker had never been fond of others spiking Sideswipe, and he had certainly never asked Sideswipe to go get spiked before. He had to have a very good reason for it, but Sideswipe… Sideswipe didn’t want to listen, and he didn’t care about Sunstreaker’s reasoning. He just wanted to curl up and forget the whole ordeal had ever happened, hide away here in their quarters until the rumors went away.

He rolled over, facing away from Sunstreaker again and scowling at his little doll. “I don’t want to ‘face with anyone else again, Sunny, and there’s no point or reason or anything! Bluestreak told Smokes and the rumors have already spread all over the Ark. Last I heard, since the other orn I’ve apparently fragged two minibots and one from the aerial unit. I got what I intended and now I just -”

“I’m not asking you, glitch,” Sunstreaker snapped, optics darkening slightly as Sideswipe fell silent. “Although, that is a better idea even. Call up the Aerialbots and set up an actual fragging session with them.” Sideswipe made a wounded noise, but Sunstreaker plowed on. “I need you to trust me, Sides, and do what I say.” Sideswipe looked over his shoulder, up at his twin. He was confused and fairly upset about the whole thing, but he nodded his agreement. His twin really wouldn’t ask this of him unless he had a good reason, right? And even if Sideswipe disagreed, even if he didn’t want anything to do with interfacing ever again, he knew that Sunstreaker had his best interests at spark, and he trusted his decisions.

He sighed, resigning himself to a night of pretending he was anywhere but in his own frame. “You want me to bring someone back here or what?” he asked, tone monotonous and low. Sunstreaker hated seeing him like this, but it had to be done. Sunny couldn’t think of any other plans, and he wasn’t about to go ask anyone for help. He would get Sideswipe out of this mess, whatever it took.

“No, stay in their hangar with them. I have stuff I need the room for.” Sunstreaker wasn’t pleased about what he was asking Sideswipe to do, no matter how necessary it was to protect his twin. He probably should have told Sideswipe to bring them back, but he just couldn’t stand the thought of it happening in their quarters, in their berth. “Call them up. Get them to invite you over. Let them use your valve, as many at a time or even all of them if they want it. No spiking them yourself, though, you have more stamina when you’re taking it than when you’re giving it.” Sideswipe’s shoulders slumped and he sighed forlornly. He had hoped to get it over and done quickly. Sunstreaker wasn’t done, however, and he didn’t even pause before continuing on. “I’m going to arrange a meeting with Thundercracker, I need to talk to him about… everything. So don’t do anything stupid while I’m gone. I’ll comm you when you can stop ‘facing and come back here.”

Sideswipe’s servo rose and he sent his twin the heavily coded comm frequency he used to reach the trine undetected. Sunstreaker gave a small grunt of approval - having the code also meant that hopefully the trine would ask questions first and shoot not-at-all. It was better safe than sorry after all, and Sunstreaker intended to end the day with no one deactivated and everyone a step closer to happiness. 

With Sunstreaker satisfied on that front, Sideswipe hesitated for a long moment before he sent out a message to the aerial gestalt. ::Heya boys,:: he purred, the act easy to put on. It had mostly been an act before the trine, and now it was even more so - like wearing a costume or playing a role. He even found himself a little amused by the brief moment of chatter and then almost fearful silence on the end of the comm. Before he continued he heard a soft buzzing sound as the comm was interrupted and he groaned, rolling his optics. Of course Sunny would hack in to listen in and make sure - or that’s who he thought was hacking in so he didn’t bother to dig any deeper. He wished Sunstreaker would learn that Sideswipe knew when he was being hacked - he wasn’t being sneaky. ::I heard a rumor going around that you’d all had a good time ‘facing me recently, but we all know that’s not true, is it?:: Yes, they were definitely shaking in their struts. They probably thought he was furious, and he was a little. Not because they had spread the rumors though, since that had been his goal from the start, but because of what the result was turning out to be. ::Well I was thinking about it, and you mechs seem to have a pretty good imagination. So I have an offer for you: would you like to make those rumors into fact? Maybe even at the end of your shifts today?:: His face showed only boredom, annoyance maybe with the task his brother had set to him, yet the tone over the comm was sultry, alluring, teasing the others into replying. Interacting with the twins had always been a dangerous game, as they were far too good at acting.

Almost all of them tried to chime back at the same time, and any other time Sideswipe might have found it amusing, even endearing. All the chimes and bursts and words grew more and more frantic, aggressive, as the gestalt brothers each struggled to be heard, until Silverbolt finally sent static burst to them all and calmed their cacophony. ::Are you serious?:: he questioned. His voice was serious. He was in charge of his brothers, and he took that job seriously, right down to protecting and caring for them when they weren’t able or willing to do so themselves. He had been the first of the gestalt to look upon Sideswipe with something other than fear, even after all the times that the twins had threatened to use them as test dummies for their Jet Judo, and even still after the few times they actually carried out those threats. It was Silverbolt’s lust and want that burrowed into the gestalt bond, causing them all to want the grounder. When the opportunity arose, they were quick to start the rumors that they’d had Sideswipe in their berth, hoping to get his attention that way.

::Yup~ Heard that Slingshot has been telling stories about how good my valve felt, and I thought you’d all want ta know if it was true or not. What do you say boys? This is a now or never opportunity.::

::A-All of us?!:: Air Raid squeaked, and hushed conversation started up again in the background. 

::All of you.::

.~:*:~.

Sideswipe didn’t want to go to the Aerialbots. Sunstreaker knew it, but he still gave Sideswipe a push out the door, before scrambling the door lock and heading off the other way. Apparently he had gotten Thundercracker to agree to a meeting, which surprised Sideswipe a little. He had thought the trine would still be too angry with him to talk about the situation, even with Sunstreaker. Sunny hadn’t told him what he said though, so he had no idea how it happened.

Alone now, he stared down the hall, frame tense. He had to do this though. Sunstreaker would be angry if he disobeyed, and it would get around faster than a wildfire if Sideswipe stood up the Aerials. They were worse gossip mongers than Smokescreen and Bluestreak put together, and that was saying something. He steeled himself and started walking, hoping that he wouldn’t run into anyone on the way down to the hangar.

Of course, Sideswipe had been having terrible luck ever since he and the trine celebrated their anniversary, so naturally he bumped into the second to last person he wanted to see: Jazz. The SpecOps commander looked surprised to see his sparkling - Sideswipe had been hiding away ever since (as Jazz heard it) Sunstreaker had chased off his lover. Sideswipe made a slight face at his carrier’s surprise, it seemed genuine enough but one never knew with Jazz. Jazz had been pretty sure however that Bluestreak and Sideswipe had never actually been lovers. At least, not as most Autobots defined the term. They had interfaced a few times, he knew, but he also knew that Bluestreak had never understood that the twins were a package deal. They would never tolerate one of them being favored over the other, they never had.

“Hey baby,” Jazz greeted warmly, visor bright. He was just coming out of a mission briefing, but seeing the look on Sideswipe’s face he knew that Prime and Prowl wouldn’t mind him delaying the mission for a bit, to make sure his sparkling was okay. He reached up to cup Sideswipe’s face and hummed. “What’s wrong, sweetspark? Ya look like you’ve been sent off to yer execution.”

Sideswipe snorted softly and pushed Jazz’s servo away. “You would know what that looks like, wouldn’t you?” He shook his helm, and Jazz smiled. “Nah, I’m just heading to the mess hall. Need a quick fuel before I go uh… sleep some more I guess.”

Jazz tilted his helm, smile fading. “Baby, you know the mess hall is the other way. You planning to go for a flight or somethin’?” Really, Sideswipe had gotten far enough that the way he was heading, anyone would know he was going to the hangar. “Pretty sure the Aerials are all busy, they’ve been buzzing about like little bees gettin’ ready for a date with some mech.”

Sideswipe felt ill. “It’s not a date,” he muttered. “Jeez, why do all the Autobots here think a quick frag equals love?” Jazz frowned, visor dimming slightly. Sideswipe winced when he looked up at saw it. He knew that expression, it meant that he was in trouble. 

“Sides, you’re not using your fellow Autobots are you?” Jazz asked slowly. Sideswipe shrugged, his own expression shifting into something defiant. Jazz sighed. It wasn’t like he could talk really, he made his living by manipulating the Autobots just as well as he did the Decepticons. “I want you to tell me exactly what’s going on. Now, Sideswipe.” Sideswipe gave a low growl, but he knew better than to argue. It never ended well, and if he argued too much Jazz would just bring in Prowl, and Sideswipe was a logical mech for the most part, but even he couldn’t hold a candle to his sire, and he knew by the end of the argument he’d feel foolish and probably want to cry.

So he offered up an explanation that only kind of stretched the truth, and Jazz knew which parts weren’t completely honest, but he got the general idea of it. As Sideswipe wrapped up his story, Jazz sighed softly and turned his sparkling around. “Go to my and Prowl’s quarters and stay their ‘til Sunny gets home from whatever he’s doing out there.” He touched Sideswipe’s helm to quiet him when he started to protest. “I’ll take care of everything. Ya obviously don’t want to go ‘face with the Aerials, and I won’t have my sparkling ‘facing his way through the ranks if it makes him unhappy. Got it?” Sideswipe nodded, slumping just slightly, and Jazz kissed his helm. “No worries, sweetspark. Ya hurry an’ ya can sneak some o’ my special brew ‘fore your sire gets off duty. An’ tomorrow everything will be fine, no backlash or anythin’, I promise. Sound good?”

Sideswipe nodded, and Jazz grinned, shooing him away before he sauntered off, heading for the Aerials’ hangar with a perfect plan in mind, and a datachip in servo.

The Aerials were surprised to see him when he arrived. His visor kept them from seeing the way that he looked over the hangar, taking everything in. It looked like they had made something of an effort to clean, and there was some energon set out on a table, waiting to be tasted. He made a note to check in with Prowl to make sure they hadn’t overdrawn on their rations for this. Fliers were hard enough to keep fueled, even with their steady supplies, without them drawing extra for date nights.

“Good evening mechs. I trust ya had a good shift?”

They were looking a little uncomfortable, and he had to fight to keep himself from smirking. He’d often been told that it was probably inappropriate to take pleasure in creeping out his own teammates, especially with the effort he often went to to boost morale, but he couldn’t help himself sometimes. “Don’t look so scared, I’m not gonna bite ya. Just popped in ta offer you all an opportunity for a special mission.”

That got their attention. The Aerials were still young, and they were often frustrated by that fact when their fellow Autobots kept them from the more dangerous missions. They wanted to have a chance to prove themselves, and under any other circumstances Jazz might have felt a little bad about taking advantage of that desire. This was for his sparkling though, and Jazz would do anything for his babies. He held up the datachip and smiled. “This is a very, very special mission. Top clearance only, which means that I have to give you all the information with this little chip, to make sure no one overhears or interferes. Do you accept?”

They didn’t seem to need time to think about it, as each of them chorused eagerly, “Yes!” Jazz nodded. “Alright. Looks like ya got an interestin’ evenin’ planned, so I’ll make it quick. How about each of ya hook up to one another to make it quicker?” He waited patiently while they did just that, exchanging cables with each other until they were what looked like a tangled mess of links. Jazz smiled and stepped up to Silverbolt, sliding the chip into a port the mech bared for him. “G’night.” That was all the warning any of them got as the chip’s program activated, shutting Silverbolt down and taking the rest of the gestalt with him. Jazz sighed, shaking his helm. Ratchet would have his helm if he ever caught wind of this.

He took the chip back and tucked it away, then rearranged the mechs into positions that wouldn’t leave them pinched or uncomfortable when they woke. He overrode their medical port locks and jacked in. Unlike with edits to his own coding, which left Ratchet annoyed and exasperated by the mess he often made of himself, Jazz was careful not to screw up the fliers’ systems too much as he uploaded a virus. After all, he wasn’t working to disable his own mechs. He just wanted to protect Sideswipe. The virus finished uploading, and he pet each of the Aerials’ helms lightly before heading to the table and taking the cube that had clearly been set aside for Sideswipe. He gave it a sniff and a taste, scanning the components that made it up, and shook his helm before tucking it away again. It wasn’t a flavor that would have made Sideswipe happy anyway, and aside from a strange aftertaste that he couldn’t quite identify, Jazz figured it couldn’t hurt to take it for himself. To keep up the pretense of his sparkling having been there and all, or that’s what he told himself as he would selfishly indulge after this.

Mission complete, and virus working its magic in their systems, Jazz slipped back out, undetected and leaving no hint that he had ever been there.

.~:*:~.

A quick ping to Teletraan’s system told Jazz that Sunstreaker still hadn’t returned yet, so he made his way to the quarters he shared with Prowl. Sideswipe was there, thankfully, nursing a large cube of Jazz’s favored brew. It was about half gone, and Jazz shook his helm. The trouble with the twins’ warrior upgrades was that even the strongest high grade tended to need a little boost to affect them at all. Their systems were almost as resilient as his own, but they didn’t like to sit and enjoy flavors as much as he did. They preferred to find the strongest energon they could and drink it fast, chasing an overcharge.

“Sides,” Jazz called softly, getting Sideswipe’s attention. Sideswipe looked up and frowned, squinting at Jazz. “How much have ya had?” Sideswipe shrugged.

“Two I guess. This’s my third.” He looked at Jazz, hopeful, and Jazz nodded. 

“It’s all taken care of. I just need you to do somethin’ for me okay?” Sideswipe nodded slowly, and Jazz walked over, sitting beside him. He unspooled his datacable and offered it to Sideswipe. “Need ya ta let me hook in and plant some false memories, in case anyone asks ya about facin’ the Aerials. It’s all gonna feel real, but unlike them, you’ll know it’s not. Alright?”

Sideswipe nodded and opened his medical port, shifting to give Jazz better access. Jazz kissed his cheek and plugged in, then set to work. As he planted the memories, Sideswipe found himself drawn into them out of sheer curiosity, and he let himself sink into the lie Jazz had woven for him to protect him...

...Sideswipe grunted as someone took him again. How many was it now? He’d lost track. The Aerials had a high interfacing drive, and it seemed like they were never tired out. He wanted to beat the slag out of his twin for this, for making him put himself through this. He thought it was Slingshot above him now, talking to him like a pleasure bot. Forcing his face down to the ground hard enough to scrape and dent as his legs were forced apart almost too far and bringing them both to overload after overload. Disgust crawled through his lines at the words Slingshot spoke, and he wanted to slap him. He knew that he had a reputation among the Autobots, but he was still a person, slag it!

They’d all had a go or two at him, but one by one they were called away for shifts or games or company and now only Slingshot was left. He was taking advantage of Sideswipes ‘willingness’ and was bring them both to their third or fourth overload. Sideswipe’s valve burned, and he really just wanted Sunstreaker to call him, to tell him he could come back to their quarters. It had to be soon, there was no way Sunstreaker would leave him like this much longer.

Finally the flier- for none of them were real seekers- tired out and moved away from Sideswipe without a word. He went to his own berth and was quick to shut down. Sideswipe swore that one orn he would beat the slag out of that mech for just- just-

“Sides. Sides!”

Sideswipe gave a small jerk and looked up at Jazz optics watering. “C-Carrier?” he mumbled, confused. Jazz nodded and pulled Sideswipe close, kissing his helm.

“Shh,” he murmured. “It’s okay, that’s all of it. Are you alright?” Sideswipe nodded slowly and looked down at his servos. A message was waiting in his queue from Sunstreaker, and he knew he’d have to go back soon. He whimpered and Jazz kissed his helm. “Come on with me little spark. We need to do one last thing to finish the illusion. Remember, that’s all it is okay?” He guided Sideswipe to his pedes and led him into one of the many hidden corridors that he used to slip here and there around the base undetected. “Alright, yer gonna hate this part, but it’s necessary okay?”

Sideswipe made a surprised noise as Jazz pulled out a container from his subspace. It was full of light pink fluid, and he realized that it was meant to mimic transfluid. He felt distant as Jazz took a brush and splattered the fake transfluid over his thighs, coating his valve and even splashing some over his abdomen. Sideswipe made an unhappy sound. “You have the weirdest crap in your subspace, Jazz.” Jazz chuckled, putting the jar away again. 

“You have no idea kiddo. Alright, last thing. I need to rough ya up a little so ya look like ya just got out from getting fragged by a gestalt.” Sideswipe nodded, and Jazz pushed him back against the wall. This part was almost fun, if he’d been in a better mood. It was a lot like play fighting and wrestling with his creators like he used to. Jazz grinned at him when they both flopped onto their backs, vents wide and fans roaring as they cooled off from the activity. Sideswipe’s frame and paint was properly dinged and scuffed up now, and Jazz nodded, pleased with his work. “Now. Mind tellin’ me why yer brother decided ta have ya frag them in the first place?”

Sideswipe frowned and looked away. “I dunno. He got mad at me for ‘facing Blue last week, but now he’s all ‘go frag everyone!’ I don’t get him sometimes, even though I know I should.” Jazz chuckled. 

“Ya share a spark, but ya have two frames and two processors. Sometimes processors and sparks have different goals. Ya understand his spark perfect - it’s his processor that’s confusin’ ya.” 

Sideswipe hummed and shrugged, before pushing himself up on wobbly legs. “Gonna head back ‘fore he comes looking. Thanks for your help, Jazz, I really appreciate it. I… love you.” 

“Love ya too, bitlet.”

He watched Sideswipe stumble away. He really did look like he’d had a good thorough frag - too bad really that wasn’t the case. But he hadn’t wanted the Aerials, and that was all Jazz needed to know. Everyone saw Sideswipe walking through the Ark with stained thighs as he made his way back to his room, and sure enough he could feel his audios burning as the rumors started.

Sunstreaker was waiting for him in their quarters, and he pulled Sideswipe into his arms praising him and leading him to the wash racks. “Oh Sides, look at you,” he murmured. He had known this would happen, but Sideswipe wasn’t just banged up from ‘facing. He looked downright miserable, and Sunstreaker felt guilty for making him go through that. He murmured softly, promises that everything would be alright, that this was the only time he would ever ask Sideswipe to do this. He assured him that it was necessary, but only this once. 

“Why?! Why did I have to let them?!” Sideswipe demanded, struggling in Sunstreaker’s grip. “Why did you ask that!?” Sunstreaker sighed, holding his brother tighter.

“Sides, scan your spark. It had to be the Aerials, just in case…” Sideswipe hesitated and did as his twin instructed. He cried out and collapsed. Optics bright and servo’s shaking as he grasped at his helm. 

“No! No! No no nononononono!” Sideswipe began sobbing and Sunstreaker let him. He felt horrible for what he had put Sideswipe through, but hopefully Sideswipe would see now, would understand. Sunstreaker had never demanded that Sideswipe break it off with the trine, but now… this was dangerous, far far too dangerous. Seekers were notoriously good creators, but that would only put the trine - and Sideswipe - at risk in the middle of this war. No one could know. 

Cleaning his twin - and cleaning up after him - was easy for Sunstreaker. He had known Sideswipe would break, had known that one orn he would have to fix his twin’s mess. It was why he’d always been quick to anger when it came to the trine. He had known that something would go wrong that he would have to cover for, and he hadn’t wanted it. He’d wanted Sideswipe to just listen. But he wanted Sideswipe to be happy as well, and it had resulted in this. He was just cleaning the mess, picking up the pieces. Like a good twin. “If it turns out to have wings, we can excuse it away with this incident.”

Sideswipe shrieked and cried, banging his fists against Sunstreaker’s chassis. He screamed and babbled at Sunstreaker in a way that would be incoherent to anyone else, but Sunstreaker knew what he was saying. No! This sparkling was theirs not the Aerialbots! No! Don’t let them be claimed by those that are not their sires! No! No! No!

Sunstreaker shushed his twin and pulled him close. He let Sideswipe hit him until he was worn out and exhausted. He gently rubbed at Sideswipe’s roof to try and calm and soothe him. It’ll be alright, he assured with the soft little clicks and hisses of their twin speak. No one will take them. No one will know the truth. No one can know or they would be extracted as tiny sparks, they might even be killed. Wasn’t lying about their heritage worth it to save them from that fate? Big brother is here to take care of you Sides. Trust in me. 

Sideswipe nodded to all the soothing feelings Sunstreaker sent him, and slowly he sank into a fitful recharge. Sunstreaker sighed softly and finished cleaning Sideswipe up, before he wrapped him in a towel and brought him to their berth, tucking him in. 

He hoped he had made the right choice.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Edited and Updated as of 2-18-16. Don't forget to check out my blog for regular story updates. http://acidicshipwrites.tumblr.com


	5. Purposeful Meetings

Chapter Five: Purposeful Meetings

Sideswipe shied away from all other Autobots after learning he was sparked, and Sunstreaker didn’t try to force him to interact with them, not even platonically. Rumors were quick to start up again, unfortunately, and Sideswipe had gotten to a point where he rarely left their quarters. He didn’t want to run into anyone, and outside of battles no one could force him out of his quarters. Sunstreaker brought him energon and took care of him, and he chased away anyone who came calling. He had grown more and more possessive of his twin and their space, and Prowl had been forced to throw him in the brig to cool off on more than one occasion. At those times, Bluestreak would bring Sideswipe fuel and leave it outside the door to their quarters. Now and then, he would press his helm to the door and just listen, waiting to see if Sideswipe would call for company. He never did.

One orn, Bluestreak heard Sideswipe crying. He was begging Primus to make them all shut up, stop talking about him, let him be. He was shouting near the end of it, and Bluestreak’s spark broke. He set the energon on the floor outside the door and knocked twice, his signal to Sideswipe that it was only him, and only fuel. Then he walked away again, helm down. That night, he had nightmares about Sideswipe crying, and again the night after that. He was exhausted, and maybe that explained why he finally snapped, though it didn’t excuse what he said.

“Hey!” Bluestreak shouted, interrupting the group of mechs currently talking about Sideswipe. He hated their disgusting words, the way they talked as if Sideswipe was a thing instead of a person. Bluestreak may not have been as infatuated with Sideswipe as he was with Sunstreaker, but he did care about him, and he couldn’t take this anymore. “Stop talking about him like that!” He stood up and stalked over to Smokescreen who had been laughing and joking about fragging Sides so hard he wouldn’t walk for orns. His fellow Praxian didn’t even have the grace to look ashamed of his words. Bluestreak wondered if he’d sing a different tune if it was Prowl stalking over to him instead. He wished that Smokescreen would be more like their elder Praxian - he gave their frame type a terrible reputation sometimes. “I’m sick of listening to you talk about him like he’s nothing more than a pleasure bot! That goes for all of you!” He tacked on to look around the room when he realized it had silenced at his shouting. Bluestreak was generally a pleasant mech, and it wasn’t often that he went off like this. It meant that when he did, mechs listened.

Smokescreen scoffed and swirled his energon, wings flicking in agitation. “What does it even matter to you, Blue? C’mon, he used you, didn’t he? He took you for a frag and then tossed you out, and you don’t think he deserves the same treatment? I thought that’s exactly what you were saying about him that night when you came to my room crying about it.” Smokescreen was just bitter that Sideswipe had yet to return to him, but his words made Bluestreak’s wings snap up high and rattle. He looked up, surprised, and the anger and hurt in Bluestreak’s optics had him cursing internally.

“He’s our friend and comrade, Smokey, no matter what he did or said or how he made me feel and I told you like a thousand slagging times that he wasn’t even the one to throw me out. It was Sunstreaker, Sunstreaker threw me out and he was the one who was mad and I told you that I probably deserved it anyway cause I had only gone there cause I wanted Sunny’s attention and I never should have said those things about Sides but I was angry. I know that’s no excuse and it was still stupid but at least I had a reason and you don’t even have that do you? You’re just throwing a tantrum cause Sideswipe doesn’t wanna frag you but maybe he doesn’t want to because you’re being such an entitled jerk about it and he doesn’t owe you anything cause no matter what you say he’s not a pleasure bot he’s a real person with real feelings and you shouldn’t be bad talking him like this!” He finished on a high note, vocalizer nearly screeching to keep up with his rambling speech. His plates were shifting and clicking, his wings shaking, his servos clenched into tight fists, and he glared down at Smokescreen with an intensity rarely seen off the battlefield. The two Praxians had a small staring contest until Smokescreen’s face seemed to morph into shock. 

“You and him are going steady, aren’t you?!” Well, scrap. “That’s why after the aerials no one’s seen him with another mecha!” Bluestreak wanted to point out that no one had really seen Sideswipe period, but Smokescreen wasn’t done. “That’s why this is so important to you! You and the twins are a thing!”

Bluestreak knew he was going to regret this, but he didn’t hesitate to puff up anyway. “What’s it to you?” He hoped that this would finally squash all the rumors, that Sideswipe could finally have some peace. It was just a little white lie after all, and those had never hurt anybody. With a huff and a shift of his wings that Smokescreen would recognize as insulting, Blue turned on his heel and stormed off. He had to go to the twins’ quarters and let Sides know what was going on. Sideswipe wouldn’t be expecting him at all, because Sunstreaker was enoying one of his ‘not stuck in the brig again’ days, but Bluestreak didn’t even think to comm ahead. He bumped into Sunstreaker around the corner from their quarters and yelped in surprise, helping Sunstreaker steady the energon he was carrying.

“What the Pit, Blue, watch it.” Sunstreaker’s snarl was half-sparked, and Bluestreak let it roll off his back. Sunstreaker had called him Blue, so he couldn’t be too mad.

“Sorry! Where’s Sideswipe? I need to talk to him, it’s really important - actually it’s important to both of you so I guess I need to talk to both of you.”

Sunstreaker looked at Bluestreak for a long moment, his expression some mix of suspicion and surprise. He couldn’t think of the last time that Blue had actively addressed both of them for the same topic before. He nodded and lead him to their quarters, calling for Sideswipe and setting the two cubes down. When both twins were settled on the couch, looking at him after the door to their quarters was closed and locked, he took in a deep vent. “Smokescreen was talking about you again in the mess hall, calling you a pleasure bot and - and worse things that I’m not going to repeat because just cause he doesn’t think we represent Praxus anymore doesn’t mean that I don’t think that and there’s no way in Pit that I’m gonna insult my creators’ memories by saying something so terrible about a comrade and a friend. But anyway I couldn’t just let him keep saying those things anymore because you both are my friends and I know that we don’t always get along but I don’t think you hate me or anything and it was disgusting and horrible how everyone laughed and agreed and they all started talking about your valve. And I mean that’s not to say it isn’t a nice valve or anything but you aren’t just a valve and it seems like they forget that you have feelings and you’re not just some sexbot or whatever the humans say. Not to mention they were going on about the Aerials again! I mean everyone thinks they like broke you or something just cause you don’t wanna ‘face anymore but that’s just another thing of them acting like you’re only purpose is to frag and it just made me so mad! I told them to knock it off and Smokescreen was angry about it for a minute before he somehow came to the conclusion that we’re dating and instead of asking me he just up and announced it to the whole room. I know I should have denied it but I thought maybe that if they thought we were in a real relationship they would leave you alone and stop nagging and saying those horrible things so I guess I kind of confirmed it and they just looked at me like I had grown two more helms. Then I realized they were gonna start talking about that and I needed to come talk to you first before they could because you are my friends and I wanted to let you know the truth before their lies reached you and -”

“Blue whoa, stop.” Sunstreaker almost always struggled to keep up with the fast talker’s speech, and when he was really worked up it was even worse. “Back up, slow down. What?”

“He said that he and us are dating and now everyone thinks we are.” Both went silent so that they could think and talk over the bond. Bluestreak struggled to keep quiet and not run or correct them. Technically he had never said they were dating, Smokescreen said it. But with the way the twins had been acting lately, he wasn’t sure that would make much of a difference. He fidgeted looked worried as he waited for their judgment, praying that they wouldn’t be too angry with him.

“Okay,” Sunstreaker said finally, and moved to sit at his easel. Blue’s optics brightened and he looked between them, then stared at Sunstreaker. He’d spent vorns trying to get the more abrasive twin to see him as more than a friend, and Sunstreaker had always turned him down. And now, after Bluestreak had flat out lied and told everyone that he was dating Sideswipe, the twins were okay with it?

“O-okay?” The stutter was adorable from the young gunner, and Sunstreaker almost lamented the fact that it wasn’t real, that they couldn’t share a real relationship with him. He would have been so cute on their arms for real. But only almost, and he brushed off the longing quickly enough. Blue had rejected Sideswipe when he was really presented with dating them both, and Sunstreaker could never forget that.

“Yeah, we don’t mind.” Sideswipe offered up with a shrug. It wasn’t like it mattered anymore, after all. Anyone could have said they were dating him and it wouldn’t have mattered, not really. In a fit of depression he had blocked the seekers on his end of their private comm. When he’d finally tried to contact them again, they had their side sealed tight. He’d understood, at first. They had been hurt about him ‘facing Bluestreak, and then they’d probably been more upset by him blocking them. He’d waited orns for them to return his comms, but everytime he tried to ping them the block was still there, bouncing it back at him. A week of this back and forth passed, until he couldn’t stand it anymore. He tore into the coding and destroyed it more thoroughly than Prowl destroyed illogical situations. With their comm connection erased Sideswipe was pretty sure they would never speak to him again. He looked back at his servos before standing up and dropping something into the trash with a clang. “Prowl wants me, I’ll be back.”

As soon as the door closed Sunstreaker was on his pedes and in Bluestreak’s personal space, snarling at him furiously. “You stupid slagger! Do you have any idea what you’ve done?!” Moving to the trash he grabbed the seeker figure out and Bluestreak noticed the freshly painted colors. There was only one tri-colored seeker in existence that he knew of, and between the way that Sideswipe had been holding it before he threw it away, and the way that Sunstreaker was delicately checking it over for damage and smudges, he was slowly putting the pieces together. “I was so close to fixing all of this slag and you just sent me back a month’s worth of time!” 

Was Sunstreaker… crying? Bluestreak had never seen him cry before, but the way that his face was twisting and harsh rasping of his fans was definitely reminiscent of someone having a good cry. Blue looked horrified.

“Oh Primus - you two are - and seekers - !” He shivered and clamped his servo over his mouth, looking around in fear for a moment as Sunstreaker glared and went quiet. “I- I won’t tell anyone. I swear Sunny, I won’t say a word. I just - I wanted them to stop saying what they did about him. He - he was crying a few orns ago while you were in the brig and - and I just - when I heard them call him a pleasure bot again I - I snapped. I had to do something! And maybe it wasn’t the best choice but it was something and it made them stop and I - ”

“If I hear a word about this outside of this room I will peel your wings off layer by layer before pouring so much acid into the joints that even Ratchet won’t be able to give you them back.” Icy optics seemed to get lighter and more dangerous looking as the threat was whispered, words spoken slowly. Bluestreak knew that he meant it too. Sunstreaker, as much as he adored the mech, had always been a little bit off, and if it wasn’t for Sideswipe and maybe Prowl and Jazz, Bluestreak was pretty sure that Sunstreaker might have ended up as a Decepticon. 

“N-not a word. I swear. How- how do I help?”

.~:*:~.

Thundercracker lounged in the specialized pond the seekers loved. Starscream had insisted that if they were going to be stuck on this planet, they were going to find joy in what little it could actually offer them. The pond was one of those few perks, after a bit of manual interference. Starscream managed to get all organic life out with some work and relocated it into another pond elsewhere, and Thundercracker had been impressed with the patience and care that his trine mate had shown the creatures, considering his disdain for humanity. Then he fitted the muddied bottom with smooth metals that would stay warmed by solar panels and keep the filth from mucking up in their joints, and they were infinitely better. He had eventually managed to do that for enough ponds that each trine had their own personal pond when they wanted it, though each one was large enough for more than one trine to enjoy at once.

The solar panels were also lining the outer rim of the ponds, and no one felt a need to inform Megatron that they were fully functional, giving the Seekers their own personal fuel sources as well. Thundercracker smiled as he considered that. Starscream had always been brilliant, and it was that brilliance that led to Megatron recruiting them in the first place. Yet now, Megatron treated Starscream like a fool when really it was him who was the fool.

As he laid in this treasured pond he thought back to the other orn with Sunstreaker. It had been the first time he had a chance to meet the gladiator off the battlefield, and it hadn’t gone anything close to what Thundercracker had always hoped. Sunstreaker had said Sideswipe had fallen ill and because of his recent escapade with Bluestreak- that slagging childish gunner of a praxian- the base was practically in an uproar about who was facing who and it mostly centered around Sideswipe who had very much regretted that single time and was refusing everyone but letting rumors spread.

Well, almost everyone. Sunstreaker had admitted to goading his twin into interfacing with the Aerials but there was a secretive purpose behind it that he was not ready to reveal. One orn he might but he had to talk further with his twin first and foremost. Thundercracker never had a chance to talk. Sunstreaker had come with a purpose and that purpose was solely to speak what needed to be spoken.

There was a chance Sideswipe had also caught a virus so they needed to not speak with him until it was confirmed and destroyed or confirmed to be nothing at all. So for the next battle they should not expect him at all but in future battles it was to be expected that the frontliner feign to try and kill them.

That and there would be many rumors carried by the cassettes if they tried to sneak into the base. So don’t believe anything unless it came from either twin directly.

Thundercracker groaned and sunk a bit lower into the pool. Slag this had all become such a big slagging mess. Thoughts raced faster and further and he once again reminisced about the old orns when Seekers were different from grounders and what had once been Vos was not a towering city. The tales from the beginning of the war had been skewed after Praxus’ fall.

It was all just so… simple back then. The hierarchy was set and one seeker led them all and there was none of this politics. No fraternization or worry about getting in trouble if seeking a mate from a different clan. Back then when his trine ruled over the forests called Vos, if a mech crossed a boundary into another’s territory seeking a mate it was no problem. It was actually encouraged to keep the codes shifting and not all pooling in a single clan.

What his trine and Sideswipe was doing, would have been supported and encouraged and everyone would have tried to help them along. Instead he was stuck on one side while his submissive- who obviously needed his help along with his trines- was left to wither on the other side. His entire being thrummed to go to the grounder and try to help him but he couldn’t, not until he was free to. 

Freedom was so fleeting now. Megatron had him and his trine recoded enough so that they would never leave his side and they could not just default and seek asylum like they actually wanted to at this point. Not with the coding that flared up and burned them when they considered it as more than a fleeting thought. Perhaps if Sideswipe or Sunstreaker learned of the coding they might be able to get their medic to help with that, get them free and they would be able to rain down upon Megatron and finish this war. They could return to their forests and restart life again.

“You know that’s not possible.” Starscream cooed as he walked over to the pond. “We can never truly return to our Utopia again. We are too different. Although... we could restart, create a new Utopia.” Starscream hummed and then shrugged. Perhaps. “How about a relaxing face then a charge~?”

“Perfect~” Thundercracker agreed and smiled as Starscream leaned down to kiss him.


	6. Genetics Are A Bitch

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Do you all want a chapter? I don't think so. So have this Authors note instead!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was joking, here's the chapter :D

Chapter Six: Genetics Are a Bitch

Sideswipe was oh so happy once he could hang out with Bluestreak again and no longer had to hide away alone. He was a socialite at spark and avoiding everyone, even though it had technically been his own choice, had done something to change him. He was desperate for touches, attention deprived, he needed to curl up with his friend the moment Blue returned to his side. Sunstreaker realized that the trine was perfect for Sideswipe, if only because of the socializing he could do with each of them and never feel alone like he did now. A part of him hated it. He felt that he should be the only company Sideswipe needed, and yet he wasn’t enough - Sideswipe needed to cuddle up with Bluestreak, wanted to be with the trine. He was beginning to understand it, he supposed, to accept it. But he didn’t like it, and there was a fear creeping in the back of his processor that he was determined to squash down. He focused instead on taking care of his brother, distracting himself with running errands for Sideswipe.

Fueling for the red twin became one of the most important activities of the orn, and no one missed that Sideswipe started consuming nearly double the fuel he once did. Sunstreaker was quick to share and give up a large portion of his allotted fuel, more than willing to provide for his twin anyway that he could. Not only did Sideswipe need more and more fuel, but he also started resting more while not on shift and even drifting off into light recharge during shifts. Not that he meant to of course, he was just so tired. On shift, Sunstreaker couldn’t do anything for him, and more than once he talked to Sideswipe about requesting leave, but Sideswipe wouldn’t have it. He insisted not having any work at all would be much worse.

Prowl called him down to his office more often than not with mounting reports of ignoring orders, in-fighting, recharging while on shift, and worst of all - in Prowl’s optics - was the betting. Sideswipe began to bet and wager his energon rations when he realized that even his and Sunstreaker’s combined fuel wasn’t enough. He was better than most at bluffing and calculating the odds, so generally he won. This had to end however, Prowl couldn’t let it carry on, and he called Ratchet to his office to help him handle Sideswipe. Ratchet sat in a corner of the office, waiting for his unwitting patient to arrive once Prowl called the frontliner in.

When Sideswipe did arrive, Prowl was quick to signal the door to lock. He couldn’t let Sideswipe try to run or brush things off this time around. Sideswipe glanced back at the door, and spotted Ratchet. “Uh… What’s going on guys?”

“Sideswipe, I heard you purged. On a minibot.” Ratchet let the words out with a heavy sigh.

“Again.” Prowl grunted and leveled his sparking with optics that just dared him to argue or lie.

“Hey!” Sideswipe nearly yelped at the duo that ganged up on him. “That’s not my fault! I told him to get out of my way and he refused to and I just couldn’t make it to the washracks with him in my way!”

Ratchet spoke up again as he narrowed his optics. “You are purging?” Sideswipe’s caribbean optics brightened with startle and he began to twitch and fidget. 

“I had a bit too much fuel, that’s all.” He refused to make optic contact, choosing instead to examine Prowl’s half finished chess game. It didn’t take long before his servo reached out to move a piece. He knocked a piece with a con symbol over and placed the Autobot one that he was holding into a check position. He could see a dozen ways to get out of it, and he was almost about to move to play the other side as well, when Ratchet spoke again, distracting him.

“You’ve been consuming almost double the allotted amount, Sideswipe. Bluestreak and Sunstreaker have both been sharing and I know you’ve been snatching from others.” Prowl’s wings rose and fluttered as he absorbed the new information. Blue had been sharing too? He hadn’t been aware of that. “Prowl has been receiving complaints about you resting on shift, even though we all know that you get at least double your required charging time on your off shifts. I have personally witnessed your mood swings. There are a few things these symptoms could mean individually, but all of them together narrows it down to two different prognoses. Either your spark is guttering - which I know it’s not because your twin is not showing any of these symptoms at all - or you are sparked.”

Sideswipe looked down in shame, door wings drooping slightly. He’d been caught, despite all of Sunstreaker’s efforts to protect him, all the efforts of the twins and Blue combined to stay undetected. He flinched slightly when Prowl jumped to his pedes, when his servos hit his desk hard. His vocals rose as high as his naturally deeper tones would allow as he nearly screeched a static laced word, “Sparked?!” The bellow was loud enough that Sides was sure that he might be heard in the hallway even through the soundproofed walls.

“I’m sure you heard about - what happened with the Aerials…” Well, it seemed like Sunny had been right to set this into motion almost two months ago, even if Sideswipe had gone a little behind his back about it. Unfortunately that meant the only ones that would know the truth were his twin, himself and... and Jazz. He was surprised that Jazz hadn’t told Prowl anything.

Ratchet heaved a sigh and leaned back into his chair more. “Let’s go to the medbay, I can properly scan you there and determine what is truly going on and how to go about handling it from here.” He looked tired, as if expecting Sideswipe to fight him and already ready to drag him kicking and screaming if he had to. 

“Okay, thanks.” Sideswipe moved to the door but when it didn’t open right away he looked back almost fearfully. Prowl took note of Sideswipe’s expression, thinking that he looked like he had as a sparkling: terrified of the ‘Sparkeater’ monster under his berth. Spark twisting just slightly, he sent the unlocking code to the door so Sideswipe could exit into the hall and begin heading to the medbay on his own.

The door closed and Ratchet covered his own optics, feeling a hundred vorns older than he was and wondering what choices he’d made in his life that led him to this moment - and wonderig whether it was good or bad. “Shift his schedule around to only monitor duty, and only for two-thirds his usual shifts until I can determine how far along he is. He’ll need unrestricted access to energon so he stops snatching the minibot’s cubes - though to be honest they deserve it for antagonizing him. I know that with Wheeljack’s solar panel adaptations and the help we get from the humans, we have plenty to get through this without suffering a large hit. I’ll edit in the additives his frame will need as soon as I figure out what kind of a blend he needs. Sunstreaker and Bluestreak will need the same changes to their energon access, seeing as they often get his cubes for him and are likely donating transfluids to him too. At least the three of them have been smart about this and have managed to get him what he needs so far.”

“I’ll comm Jazz,” Prowl said, his vocals returned to their more normal tone and volume now. He sat with a heavy ‘fwump!’ and covered his face for a moment, organizing his thoughts. He needed to begin to plan out a strategic retreat for his undercover mate. His optics narrowed as he reviewed his mate’s mission again, though with this new information he realized that something seemed off. Jazz was deep in the Decepticon base on what seemed now like a personal mission that didn’t fit into helping the Autobot cause. Did Jazz already know? If he did, why hadn’t he told Prowl anything, and why had he elected to go to the Decepticon base with Sideswipe in this condition?

Suspicions rose up in his processor as he scuffed and deleted the thread in his calculations that supported the aerials as the Sires. He didn’t believe for a moment that those sparklings were the sires. He was pretty sure that their spark resonance didn’t even support a strand of coding to procreate just yet. The sparks were still far too young compared to their assumed and feigned age, an age that he himself had created.

Ratchet left Prowl’s office and returned to his Medbay to find Sideswipe laying out on a medical berth. He was once again in a light recharge, resting, and Ratchet shook his helm. “You are such a trouble maker, I pray to Primus your sparkling takes after your twin instead, homicidal tendencies aside.”

Scanning the charging grounder he began making notes and doing what he could to learn every last detail about Sideswipe’s carrying state and health. His immediate mission was to find out the health and age of the new spark as well as get a read on Sideswipe’s own overall health. To do that he started by taking some energon from a heavily used line in the grounder’s neck cables and setting the sample up for tests and a close look. Looking into what Sides had available in his lines, Ratchet wrote down notes for what his frame would be needing, so that he could mix up the appropriate supplements. Once the scans on the sparkling came in he would determine what it needed, what it was consuming that Sideswipe could provide, and what he couldn’t provide on his own. Later, he would need to call Sunstreaker and Bluestreak both in to test them as well, to make sure their transfluid donations would be effective enough that he could even give Sideswipe fewer supplements.

Being the Aerial’s sparkling, it would definitely need at least a few different additives than what Sideswipe’s frame could produce, or Sunstreaker or Bluestreak’s transfluids could offer. The different frame classes each created and needed different additives, thus the strict regulation on not sharing energon, especially during wartime. A minibot needed extra copper to keep the spark supported in such a small frame while a bulkier frontliner class needed more iron to stay strong and repel direct hits. Mixing up those blends might not cause any real damage in the long run, but it could result in a shortage of minerals.

Looking at the energon under a scope, Ratchet focused on determining if Sideswipe had any corrosion floating through his lines due to his extra copper intake from the extorted minibot cubes. While that wouldn’t damage him really, it might result in damage to the sparklings. By the time he determined that the energon was healthy and clean - although lacking in nickel due to the over abundance of copper - the spark scans finished and he hit the screen when it filled with static. Then he hit it again when it obviously came back with the wrong spark signature. The resonance was wrong for a sparkling created by Sideswipe and any of the Aerialbots. He knew this resonance from Prowl, or at least this was a variation of that. Ratchet was sure that he should be looking at either a grounder or aerial resonance, not seeker or praxian.

Unless... Bluestreak was supposedly in a very committed and loyal relationship with the twins. Though even if he was the real sire, that match wouldn’t have shown the spark resonance as a 75% chance seeker and 25% praxian either. 

Spark resonance in kindled mechs was most typically determined by the dominant spark, or the dominant spark traits. These took the most precedence in coding for newsparks, and it functioned in a very similar way to how human traits such as eye color or hair color were determined. There were strands of coding taken from each creator, the sire and carrier typically. The dominant spark signature was not determined by who carried, but by the dominant spark’s coding, which would in turn determine the frame class of the sparkling. As an example, Ratchet often compared Seekers and Grounders, mecha that tended to be fundamentally different in almost every way. Seekers were all dominant compared to grounders, but they had a mutation in their coding which affected their spark and frame, and it was something that no medic or scientist had yet worked out the cause of. Through aging and typical upgrades, their coding was 100% seeker by the time they were ready to spark. The seeker coding would overwhelm the grounder coding, which guaranteed a three to one ration of seeker to grounder. Even in the 25% chance that the sparkling was grounder, it would be heavily influenced by the seeker coding, and over the course of upgrades and aging it would develop a winged frame - historically called “Seekerkin”, but being most common among the Praxians, it was simply known now as a Praxian frame type.

Fortunately, the Praxian coding was not influenced enough by the seeker lineage to create seekerlings. So while Praxian coding was dominant, a three to one ration too, contrary to all other coding there was no way to - essentially - reverse engineer their coding through creation. Seekers who took ground-based mates could always code a praxling, but a Praxian frame could not code a seekerling with another Praxian or with a ground-based mate themselves. 

All of this meant that whether an Aerial or Bluestreak was the sire, there was no possible chance of the newspark being coded as a seeker, because the twins were both ground-based mecha (even with their doorwing upgrades).  
…

Unless...

...

“You glitch!” Ratchet hissed as things began clicking into place in his processor. “You and your slagging twin played us! Feigning good behavior all this time just to sneak off and frag those damned seekers!” Why could this duo not make his life easy for once?

Sure, the seekers rarely caused damage during the battles, and the twins never came back in pieces because of them, but did either of them realize how hard it was to get the materials that would be needed to make the sparklings’ frames? Obviously they didn’t! Here on the Ark, they didn’t exactly have a spare seeker they could just go up to and ask ‘can we have your transfluids so that we can create frames for spar-’

“You glitch!” he bellowed as he looked at the results once more. This time his words were loud enough to startle Sideswipe awake. 

“Wha-?! huh?!”

“Get to the brig! I don’t want to see you until I can fix this!” He pointed to a room in the back, nicknamed Brig Two because once a bot went in, they didn’t leave without Warden Ratchet tossing them out on their aft.

Sideswipe was startled badly enough that he didn’t even try to protest or argue. He just scurried into the room willingly to wait, knowing that something was wrong, and unable to stop himself from curling up to protect his chassis, worrying.


	7. n/a

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 1+2 have been heavily edited. We are working on three now. But for now here is an unedited chapter seven if you want it. We are working hard to get the muse for this back and it's returning.

Chapter Seven:

Sideswipe was holed up in the medbay brig. He was shaking with fear and worry as he pressed a servo over his chassis. He was expecting Ratchet to come in with something to add to his energon lines. He knew what that would be and he sobbed for the loss he knew would be forced upon him.

It took a few hours for Ratchet to come storming into this brig, snarling and wielding a wrench. But he quickly calmed down and put the ‘weapon’ away and instead pulled Sideswipe into his arms. “Sideswipe, you need to calm down. Tell me why you are crying. Being brigged is nothing new to you and you obviously knew you were sparked for a while now.”

“I- I- Please- I’ll leave the base, I’ll leave the planet, don’t take my sparkling away. I know- I know I’m not supposed to be sparked and- and you probably know who sparked me by now- but-”

Ratchet firmly gripped Sideswipe’s chin and made him look up. With a kindness unusual for him, he took out a buffing cloth and wiped away Sideswipe’s tears. “Calm child, I’m not taking your sparklings. Your health and wellbeing comes first to me and I know that these sparklings are extremely important to you. I know your coding almost as well as my own and I know that you are coded to be a submissive carrier, to take your sparklings away would be ripping out a section of that coding and praying you would be alright. Loss, natural loss, is known to rarely happen but it does and your coding compensates for that, but an unnatural loss like an abortion could easily offline you too from breaking your spark.

“I would never willingly take the spark of a new one if I had a choice, and I have a choice now. I will protect you and your seekerlings with my own frame and spark, know that now. There is a lot that must be done to protect all of you and I need your cooperation in this. Fearing me, your medic, will do nothing but harm your little twins.”

Sideswipe searched Ratchet, trying to find a hint of a lie or deception and he found sincere honesty. He began to sob again and hold tight to the medic that had been the first to ever heal him. “T-twins?” He asked after several long minutes of hiccuping sobs.

“You, Sideswipe, are a carrier of two identical sparks.” Ratchet stayed with the once again crying grounder. He pet the frontliner’s back and calmed him as best as he could. An alert was added to the medical file and he was pulled from active duty on the front lines. A message sent to Prowl to keep Sideswipe on short shifts with many breaks in between and non strenuous tasks such as monitor duty and possibly being assigned to help the commanding officers keep files organized.

{Have you confirmed the sparking?} -Prowl

{The Sire?} -Prowl

Ratchet hid his scuff at Prowl’s questioning instant messages. They were not necessary to vital information and needing an update immediately thus the silent ping. Ratchet wrote out his reply quickly and sent it along.

{Confirmed, both. Sire confirmation; irrelevant to be revealed asides from medical files.} -Ratchet

{Ask your sparkling yourself if you wish to know who the sire is.} He hesitated a moment before he grinned slyly and signed a different designation. -Hatchet.

Though after sending that signature he heaved a sigh and alerted Ironhide to go check up on the tactician and make sure that he had not glitched. When Sideswipe finally sobbed enough to wear himself out Ratchet decided to give him more news. “It would be best to contact whatever trine you have been merging and interfacing, get them to meet on a neutral ground and you, Sunstreaker, and I go to meet with them so that I may give them all the information on keeping you safe and healthy.”

“Seekers?” He mumbled softly registering the term and realizing the medic had identified his new spark- new sparks as seekerling, and looked up with barely onlined optics. “You know it wasn’t the ariels…”

“Of course, seekers produce a certain spark signature in any younglings they create, though any sparkling of theirs turns out to be seeker or praxian, they all have a certain amount of seeker coding that shows through. Ariels are not seekers, neither are shuttles contrary to popular belief, seekers are a class of their own with a specific signature and they are the only ones that produce that signa-” He looked down and smiled. Poor Sideswipe was offlined already.

Settling the grounder down he pulled out a thermal blanket to lay over him, he may lose some heat while charging due to a lot of the energy going to the sparklings. ::Sunstreaker, report to medical bay one for your annual check up.:: He announced over a ship wide com, he knew Sunstreaker would ignore him other wise.

Both twins were good about check ups, and very grateful to actually have a doctor that was trying to help them. But with Sideswipe sparked, Sunstreaker was an unknown variable at this moment.

As Ratchet prepared the check up berth he let his processor wander. So who could the sire’s be? He knew it was a seeker from the Decepticon faction, but what set of seekers? Ratchet thought of the hundreds of seekers and narrowed it down quickly. Most of the underling seekers were still on Cybertron, so not them. The conehead trine? No, Sideswipe was wanting to mount their helms on platters far too often for it to be them. 

All Ratchet could think of were the three lead trine. 

The Elite Trine, lead by Starscream with Thundercracker as his right wing and Skywarp as the left. All three seekers had a sigma ability so if it was them, then it was most likely the sparkling twins would too. Though the likelihood of it being this trine was almost low enough to knock off the list. The twins fought them most often and Ratchet still remembered the time Sideswipe tore Thundercracker’s wing right off and ended up almost teleported to the other side of the continent.

The Original Rainmaker Trine, lead by the seeker designated Acidstorm. Acidstorm was brilliant and fairly obsessed the science of things, the seeker was known to be quite like Hound in the distinct love of nature and the terran world. His right wing was Atomicstorm. The wing right, was a lazy mech that preferred to fly circles during a battle pretending to be active. Novastorm was the left wing and was a young mech that had gotten a fair amount of damage in battle and lost the ability to process and grow correctly. He was smart and able to be intelligent, but he lost the ability to process that intelligence and thus was very child like.

After Shockwave learned of how terrible he had failed with this trine he’d tried to create a new one. Instead of building a new one he took real seekers and corrupted them. That too failed with the new Rainmakers. Sunstorm had gone from a peaceful priest to a radioactive pit spawn obsessed with trying to turn everyone into Primus’ followers. His wing right was an average communications mech but after being worked on obsessed with his electronics he fears that his poor little ‘sparklings’ are going to offline. Rumor has it that he has a datapad he has named his heir. The third had simply shied away from his trine and turned fairly silent overall. Their weapons specialist was so shy Ratchet has only remembered seeing him once maybe twice.

These three ranked the top in who could be the creators. “Sit.” Ratchet demanded as Sunstreaker sulked in. He hated being called out like that, hated knowing that this wasn’t something he could just hide from like a private communications link. 

“My annual was not even a vorn ago.” Sunstreaker didn’t need to say much more, because he knew Ratchet knew, after all his twin was missing and last he’d heard Sides had entered the medbay.

“I know.” That was that either said for a while, Ratchet began his tests and he worked to figure out what was in this mech that Sideswipe would need and what they needed to add to the transfluid donor.

“You and your twin are in a relationship with someone, or is it just him? I have noticed how he goes missing far more often than you and when you leave it’s for far shorter of a time period.” The medic saw and felt when the elder twin tensed. “How much do the sires know about your past? About how you grew up?”

“What does it matter?” Sunstreaker tore his arm away and glared at Ratchet, he heard the plural form that the medic had used, he was sure the medic knew some of the big picture about who Sideswipe was with. And he knew for sure now that Ratchet knew Sides was sparked.

“How will they react when they learn that Sideswipe was a sparkling pleasure bot? That you tore mecha apart as a show in the pits?” Ratchet set all the energon up for the scans to begin running before turning to look at Sunstreaker who seemed to be fuming silently. “How long do you think it will take for the seekers to deem him broken, to decide you are to glitched, and leave?”

“They wouldn’t-” But his vocals cut off because would they? He didn’t know and he needed to know. Needed to figure that out before he could ever let anyone know what trine it is, before inviting them in and risking his spark, risking his twins spark.

“You know it, I can see it in your face. You know whatever seekers they are will leave your twin. Sideswipe will be sparked up and broken because of it.”

“And how will telling you who they are change that!?” Sunstreaker belted at Ratchet. A wrench flew and after a hit in the helm from it he was enraged. How dare that medic-! ANother flew and he dodged it.

“Because if we can capture them or if we have in the past I can use their energon composition to create the false transfluids needed! Because when- not if but when- the glitches leave I can keep you all safe! I can make sure that they never need to know about the sparkling and make sure that they never find out!”

Sunstreaker needed to think. Needed to get away. He couldn’t stay here, couldn’t be in this pit any longer. Air, flight on wheels large and round that sped him along so fast he felt like seeker kin, he couldn't vent. 

Racing out of the medbay, through the arc, then out of it and speeding like a demon to where he needed to go.


End file.
